"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.
"I'll try fishing as soon as I'm done," said John Barrow, and was as good as his word.
It was no easy task to cut a hole through the ice, but once this was accomplished the fish were found to be lively enough, despite the storm and
