There was not much to count up:  some meat and crackers Dick and the guide had brought along, and the meat, crackers, and the rabbit in Tom and Sam’s store.  In his pockets John Barrow also carried some coffee, sugar, and some salt.

“Not such a very small lot,” was Dick’s comment.  “But it might be more.”

A scanty evening meal was quickly disposed of, and then the candle was blown out, and all retired to rest.  The boys were soon sound asleep, and presently the guide followed, but with his hand on his gun, ready for any attack by man or beast, should it come.

The night passed quietly enough, for presently the wind went down.  The snow grew thicker than ever, until it covered the river to a depth of two feet and more.  Around the cedars there was a huge drift, burying the shelter completely.

It was Dick who roused up first, to find all pitch-dark around him.  Bringing out a match, he lit the candle and looked at his watch.

“Seven o’clock!” he murmured.  “Guess I’ll go out and see what the weather is.”

Stretching himself, he walked to the blanket which had been placed over the opening, and tried to thrust it aside.  At once a mass of snow came tumbling down and sifted in all directions, a good share on Tom’s face.

“Hi! who’s washing my face with snow?” cried Tom, as he opened his eyes and sat up.  “That’s a mean trick, Dick, on a fellow who is dead tired out.”

“I didn’t mean to do it, Tom.  I was going outside, to see how the weather is.  I reckon the snow is pretty deep.”

The talking aroused the guide and Sam, and soon all were on their feet.  The snow in the opening was pushed back and they forced their way outside, to find themselves in a drift up to their waists.

“Gosh, but we are right in it!” was Tom’s comment.  “See, the river is completely covered.  That settles skating.”

“And the worst of it is, it is still showing,” came from Dick.

“With no signs of letting up,” finished John Barrow.  “Boys, I am afraid we are snowed in, or snowed up, just as you feel like calling it.”

“Do you mean we’ll have to remain here?” questioned Sam quickly.

“For the present.  We are a good four miles from the pond, and we can’t tramp that in this storm.”

The wind was rising again, with a dull moaning through the timber, and sending the flakes whirling in all directions, and they were glad enough to get back to the shelter of the cedars.

“We’ll clear a space in the snow and start a fire,” said the guide.  “A hot cup o’ coffee will do us all good.”

“And we can cook that other rabbit Tom and I brought along,” put in Sam.

Brushwood was handy, and Tom helped to cut some of this with the hunting knife he had brought along.  Soon a lively blaze was warming them up, and water was boiling for the coffee, while the rabbit was cleaned, and broiled on a long fork in the guide’s outfit.  Crackers were running low, and they had but two apiece.