The clear, cold weather held for a week. The days were sparkling and crisp, the nights blue and bitterly cold, with white stars reflecting their countless points of light upon the gleaming snow fields. In the aspen groves trees snapped and popped as the frost sought their hearts. Lady Ebony left the lee of the cabin and found a sheltered spot beside one of the big castle rocks at a point near the edge of the deep canyon. A narrow ledge trail led up to the shelter and an outthrust layer of rock furnished a roof so that the earth under the shelter was free from snow. A shoulder of the wall shut off the wind, making the retreat really a barn. A crevice in the roof of the shelter harbored a nest of pack rats. Sticks, pine cones, bright rocks, and other things dear to the heart of a trade rat had been crammed into the crevice until they spilled out on the floor. The whole cave was tainted with rat smell, pungent and musty. The black robes of the mare and her colt grew shaggy and thick, as the bitter cold deepened. Lady Ebony and Midnight were forced to seek grass at the upper end of the meadow below the cabin because the wind struck that part of the mesa, clearing the snow away. Every morning they plunged through deep drifts to reach the wind-swept portion of the meadow, returning again at night to their shelter. The week of clear weather was broken late one afternoon. Clouds began to cluster around the high spires of the Crazy Kills. They crept into high craters and wound around the tall, granite cathedrals on top of the world like great cats stalking their prey. Above they were silvery white and gleamed like jeweled blankets, below they were dark gray and, in spots, black. A feeble sun shone on the mesa, and two yellow sun-dogs blazoned forth on either side of it like sentinels. The air was still and the silence deep. Slowly the temperature rose and Midnight sniffed eagerly and plunged about in the snow. He was disturbed but did not know why. Lady Ebony jerked up her head and tested the air. She knew another storm was coming. Then the clouds rolled down over the spruce, blotting out the shining mountain peaks, the big soft flakes came and later the lashing wind. Another blizzard gripped the high mesa. With the wind came cutting cold that stabbed through even the thick coats of the horses. Lady Ebony headed across the meadow toward their shelter.