The clouds rose rapidly, and the cold grew more intense. The sky was now entirely covered, and a biting wind swept down through the valley of the Yalu. At noon Fred called a halt in the shelter of a clump of trees, and a hasty meal was prepared over a small fire, while the horses were given food and drink. The guide remained sullen and taciturn, but performed his duties well. Fred had a belt around his waist filled with gold pieces, as well as a pocket full of change. "Look here, Kanuka," he said, as the cavalcade resumed their march, "you bring me to a house where we can be decently comfortable for to-night, and I'll hand you ten yen, in addition to your regular pay. See?" The man shrugged his shoulders under his shaggy sheepskin cloak and pointed up to the sky. "Snow soon," he said gruffly. "House that way"; and again he indicated the north. "Well, we may have to come to it, but I don't want to go a foot off the main trail if I can help it. There are too many loose characters floating about these regions to make the country healthy for foreigners, away from the military roads--eh, Kanuka?" A gleam came into the guide's dark eye, but passed like a flash. He only shrugged his shoulders again, and resumed the weary tramp along the frozen path. Now a snow-flake floated downward and alighted on Fred's coat-sleeve. He surveyed it with interest. "Kanuka," he observed, "you're a genius. You'd be a valuable aid to General Greely, over in my country, forecasting weather. The snow has arrived--a 'local area' of it, anyway. How long do you suppose it will last?" "Two days." "Whew! It's a poor lookout for equestrian excursions to the rural districts! Here it comes, in dead earnest!" A gust of wind rushed down from the mountains, and in a minute the air was full of fine drift which stung the faces of men and horses like needles. The ponies whirled round and it was only by the utmost efforts of the rider and his attendant that they were forced to go on. The landscape was now almost entirely lost to view. All Fred took note of was the snowy mane of his pony and the bowed back of the guide, urging the pack-horse up the path, which had of late grown much rougher and steeper. Hour after hour passed. Fred, buffeted by the blast and half-frozen as he crouched on the saddle, suddenly realised that it was growing darker. Night was falling. The new snow was now over the horses' fetlocks, and in places the drifts were nearly to the stirrups. "Where are we, Kanuka?" "Not far from Yalu. See--good house ahead!" Fred wiped the frozen snow from his eyelashes and peered over the horse's head. Sure enough, there was the welcome sight of a light, gleaming hospitably through the gathering darkness. "Good!" he ejaculated with stiff lips, under his icy moustache. "I thought we should find somebody living on this old Feng-Weng turnpike." "This Yalu road," said the guide. "What, have we left the main trail?"