o, the joyous, busily visiting each
and every portion of the road, behind, before, and at the sides.

What a world of white it was! The wind had increased, and a few
scattered specks of snow that sped before it seemed trying to muster
the force of a storm, from the sky in which the sun was still shining,
between huge rents and spaces that separated scudding clouds.

It was not, however, until an hour had gone that the flakes began to
swirl in fitful flurries. By then the travellers were making better
time, and Jim was convinced the blotted sun would soon again assert its
mastery over clouds so abruptly accumulated in the sky. The wind,
however, had veered about. It came directly in their faces, causing
the horse to lower his head and the pup to sniff in displeasure.

Little Skeezucks, with his back to the slanting fire of small, hard
flakes, nestled in comfort on the big, protecting shoulder, where he
felt secure against all manner of attack.

For two more hours they rode ahead, while the snow came down somewhat
thicker.

"It can't last," old Jim said, cheerily, to the child and horse and
pup. "Just a blowout. Too fierce and sudden to hold."

Yet, when they came to the great level valley beyond the second range
of hills, the biting gale appeared to greet them with a fury pent up
for the purpose. Unobstructed it swept across the desert of snow,
flinging not only the shotlike particles from the sky, but also the
loose, roving drift, as dry as salt, that lay four inches deep upon the
solider snow that floored the plain. And such miles and miles of the
frozen waste were there! The distant mountains looked like huge
windrows of snow wearing away in the rush of the gale.

Confident still it was only a flurry, Jim rode on. The pup by now was
trailing behind, his tail less high, his fuzzy coat beginning to fill
with snow, his eyes so pelted that he sneezed to keep them clear.

The air was cold and piercing as it drove upon them. Jim felt his feet
begin to ache in his hard, leather boots. Beneath his clothing the
chill lay thinly against his body, save for the place where little
Carson was strapped to his breast.

"It can't last," the man insisted. "Never yet saw a blusterin' storm
that didn't blow itself to nothin' in a hurry."

But a darkness was flung about them with the thicker snow that flew.
Indeed, the flakes were multiplying tremendously. The wind was
becoming a hurricane. With a roar it rushed