When they had reached a point about a mile distant, a very perceptible change in the sky became apparent. The sun was hid by clouds that swiftly drifted up from the Cascade Range, and the air which had been mild and balmy, rapidly grew colder, until the lads were compelled to walk quite briskly to keep up the circulation and warmth of the body. The wind blew strongly, whistling and moaning among the trees like the blasts of winter, and there was every indication of a great elemental disturbance. “There is a storm coming, as sure as fate,” said Harry, looking up at the threatening sky. “And I shouldn’t wonder if it were a snow storm,” added Little Rifle. “I have seen them come up as suddenly as this before. Hadn’t we better go back, and stay in our lodge over night?” “I would rather go on,” replied Harry, who dreaded the annoyance of being covertly watched by the old trapper, for an indefinite number of hours. “If the storm becomes too severe, why we can go into camp and wait until it blows over. Do you think it will amount to much?” Little Rifle looked up to the sky, with the air and manner of a weather prophet, and replied: “No; I think it is a sudden flurry, or a squall that will be over in an hour; but you notice how chilly it is; we ought to be provided with blankets, at any rate.” “I can stand it if you can.” “I only spoke on your account,” said Little Rifle as they started forward. “We can walk fast, and that will keep us warm, and if it gets too cold for us to stand it, we will crawl in among the rocks somewhere and build a rousing fire.” Harry found the walk brisk enough to suit the most enthusiastic pedestrian, and it speedily sent a glow of warmth all through his system. A moment after several feathery flakes of snow drifted against their faces, and then scarcely five minutes had elapsed when the air was full. Millions and billions of the white flakes, some of them of large size, were eddying and whirling all about them. When they looked up, they could barely keep their eyes open, and they were literally blinded by them. “Jingo! this is rather sudden,” shouted Harry with a laugh. “I guess the Coast Range has blowed up, and sent the pieces this way.” The snow drove against them and filled the air so entirely that the boys could not see a rod ahead of them. Little Rifle, however, was able to recall where they were, and he groped forward, until they reached the shelter of some rocks, where they could remain until the snow-squall should terminate. As they stood there, looking out upon the beautiful snow, Little Rifle reached out and took the gun of Harry for the purpose of making a more minute examination of it than he had yet done. “While you’re doing that I’ll take a look at that handsome little piece of yours. Helloa!”