By quarter-past eight they put out the fire, placed the last of the things on the sled, and set out. Down on the surface of the lake they found a cold wind blowing from the northwest, and the snowflakes appeared to be thicker than ever. CHAPTER XV. LOST IN THE SNOW. As they had done the day previous, they took turns in drawing the sled, which, fortunately, rode over the surface of the ice easily. Pickles was the first to try a hand. Jack and Harry went on ahead, while Andy and Boxy came close behind the traps. All of the boys had their collars turned high up and their caps pulled well down. Yet the snow crept in, and more than once they could scarcely see ahead of them. “It’s not going to be such a bang-up, pleasant trip across, to my way of thinking,” remarked Jack. “The snow is coming down heavier every minute.” “Well, we’ll make a beeline for the opposite shore,” returned Harry. “If we keep on pushing like this, we ought to make it by a little after noon, and that will give us plenty of time to select a spot for a permanent camp before night comes.” “That’s true.” “There is one thing we must guard against, and that is airholes. This drifting snow is apt to cover them so a fellow can’t see them until it is too late.” “We’ll keep our eyes peeled,” returned Jack, and he called out instructions for those behind to do the same. On and on they went, keeping the straightest line they could without anything to aid their eyesight. It was still colder as they got farther from the shore, and occasionally a blast of wind would nearly take them from their feet. “There is one thing we forgot to bring along, and that’s a compass,” said Harry. “It’s a pity, too! If we had it the way need not bother us in the least.” “I thought of it yesterday, after we had left Rudd’s Landing. But I hated to go back after one.” Once or twice a flock of wild birds would circle over their heads in the snow, and they would take a shot at them. In this manner they brought down ten of the creatures, which, though small, would make dainty eating. Jack and Harry placed them in their bags, and continued to keep their eyes open for more. About ten o’clock the wind began to blow stronger than ever. It was little short of a hurricane, and took the boys fairly off their feet. “By golly! dis ain’t no picnic, am it?” cried Pickles, as he went sailing up the lake, unable to stop himself. “Lower your sails, Pickles!” cried Boxy, who looked at the difficulty in the light of a joke. He had to dig his heels deep into the ice to keep himself from following the colored youth. Jack was drawing the sled. A dozen times it swung around, and just as he thought he had it right, the wind got under it, and over it went in a trice, spilling off several things that had not been packed on well. With much trouble the sled was righted. Pickles fought his way back, and helped tie the traps fast, this time making sure that not a single thing was left loose.