Garth’s prediction of another storm had its fulfilment within the next few hours; and for two days and nights the feathery burden sifted down almost continuously, adding unmeasured depths to the already heavy blanketing of a whitened wilderness. Trees that had withstood the storms of many years came crashing down under the added load, and for the first time in the winter the three cabin dwellers were forced to resort to melted snow for their drinking and cooking water; it was impossible to keep the trail open to the creek; indeed, for the two days of storm they found it useless to try to work in the mine. During the period of enforced idleness, Garth busied himself hewing and whittling out a pair of skis, for which the light spruce they had cut for firewood furnished the material. Asked what he meant to do with his footgear, he was non-committal, merely saying that he wanted to be doing something, and that the skis might be handy to have around if the spring should be late in coming. “We’re chawin’ a mighty big hole in the grub-stake,” he added. “Maybe we’ll have to take to the woods, yit, for more meat.” But a starker use for the skis presented itself two nights later, when they were all awakened by a muffled crash that made the solidly built cabin rock as if shaken by an earthquake shock. Garth was the first to leap afoot and give the alarm. “Grab for yer clothes and blankets and run for it!” he shouted. “It’s the slide a-comin’ down!” Struggling into their clothes in frantic haste, the two who were the most unready to fly for their lives joined Garth in the small cleared area they had been keeping open in front of the cabin. It was a bright, moonlit night, clear, calm and deadly cold. From the shovelled areaway they could see that the low cliff behind the cabin had disappeared, its place being taken by a slanting snowbank reaching up to the steep slope of the mountain above. On the height they could plainly see the gash left by the sliding mass that was now filling the space between the cliff and the cabin and heaping itself well up toward the ridge-pole on the roof. “There she is,” said Garth, pointing. “If that other chunk lets go, it’ll be hell and repeat for the cabin! We got to get a hump on us, mighty sudden!” “But what can we do?” Philip demanded. “Ain’t but one thing. That snow mount’in a-hangin’ up there over us’ll have to be eased down slaunchwise, ’r we’ll have it on top of us, shore as shootin’. Come inside and dig out the powder and fuse whilst I’m riggin’ for it!”