We ran to the barn. The lean-to door was off its hinges, but wooden pins held the oak braces of the frame in position. We knocked out the pins, and prying out two of the braces, split them, and then beat the pieces on the newspapers. The white powder ran from the perforated wood in tiny streams. The bottle filled slowly, however, and it needed much splitting and hammering to obtain even a teaspoonful of powder-post. Then, at the last moment, Willis spilled nearly all that he had collected, and another brace had to be taken out and split. By this time our newspapers were torn in pieces, and altogether we had much trouble in collecting half a bottleful. When at last we corked up the bottle and hurried out of the barn, a heavy snowstorm had set in. We could not even see the forest across the clearing. But we ran as fast as we could, and for fifteen minutes scarcely slackened our pace. The whole forest had taken on a wintry aspect. The snow rattled on the bare twigs and sodden leaves, and the rising gusts of wind sighed drearily. "It seems to me we ought to come to that little hollow where the muck-holes are," John said. "So I think," replied Willis, stopping to look about. "I think we're heading off too far toward Stoss Pond," said I. "Oh no, we're not!" cried Willis. "Come on!" Gripping our strings of fish, we ran on again, but presently we were perplexed to discern the side of a mountain looking up directly ahead. "There, now, what did I tell you?" said I. "That's Stoss Pond mountain." Thereupon we tacked again, and ran on. The storm thickened and the forest darkened, but on we went through brush and thicket till we came to the bank of a large brook. "We didn't cross any such brook as this on our way up!" John exclaimed. "We're away down on Stoss Pond brook," said Willis. "We've come wrong! If you both think you know more than I, keep on; I'm going in this other direction," and Willis set off to run again. John and I followed him. In the course of five minutes we came suddenly out into cleared land. "There! What did I tell you?" cried Willis. "This is Wilbur's pasture. We're almost home now." John and I were too much gratified to question Willis's superior wisdom and followed after him, intent only on getting home to dinner. The storm was now driving thick and fast. We could not see a hundred yards ahead, but we seemed to be on level ground, such as I had never seen in Neighbor Wilbur's pasture. Soon we came to another large brook. "There's no brook in Wilbur's pasture!" exclaimed John, stopping short. "I don't care!" cried Willis. "This must be Wilbur's pasture!" He crossed the brook. "Of course it is!" he shouted back to us, "for there's Wilbur's barn--right ahead of us!" We hastened after Willis, plodding through dry, snowy grass, and came to a barn about which the storm eddied in snowy gusts. "But where's Wilbur's house?" asked John.