"It looked like a solid wall of snow, an' before I realized it was
comin', the storm struck, hurled me to the ground, an' rolled me over
an' over in the snow. I wasn't hurt, of course, but it took me so long
to get my breath that I thought it was never goin' to come, an' that I
should suffocate. But after that first burst, the blizzard settled down
to the regular variety, an' we all felt more at home. But even at that,
it was the worst one I ever saw in the North, an' I've been there nine
winters."
"What did you do? Go back?"
"No use tryin' to go back," the traveler said, "because those whirlwinds
had cut gullies across the snow in every direction so that our old trail
was no use to us. We went ahead a bit, as far as we could, but soon
realized that there was nothin' to do but camp right where we were an'
wait for the blizzard to blow over. Usually two days is enough for the
average storm to let up a little, but it was not until the third day
that there was any chance of startin', an' even then it was almost as
bad as could be for travel. But I had to make a start then."
"Why?" asked Hamilton, who always wanted to know the details of
everything.
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