"Might have," commented Tom, taking in the situation, which suggested to him the idea of getting away from the lonely spot as soon as possible. Besides, it was evident that much time had already been taken up with their gumming, more than they had meant to take, and now, to their dismay, they discovered suddenly that the sun had disappeared; great clouds were swiftly gathering about them, while down below in the valley, already the snow whirled thickly. A swift storm had arisen, as is often the case in these mountains. It had been brooding, but the boys had not noticed it. Already the giant spruces rocked and tossed far above, as the biting wind whined through their tops. The boys realised their best plan now was to make for the nearest shelter, or they were liable to be overtaken by a blizzard on the mountains, and so lose their way. Swifter and faster swirled the snow; it shut them off completely from everything, blinding them and stinging their faces like fine needles. Nothing but vapour and clouds all about, and they were off the main trail. They forged on ahead, climbing bravely up and up, sliding back at each step, but clinging to small spruces to keep from slipping. [Illustration: THE PANTHER CROUCHED AT THE FOOT OF THE LADDER, ... MAKING UP ITS MIND TO CLIMB.] "Do you know where we are, Tom?" called Ned, trying to keep up with his elder brother, slipping over rocks, plunging down into deep gullies and over great fallen spruces. "Not sure," called back Tom, above the howling gale. "We can't begin to get down the mountain, though, to-night. Look ahead; it's almost dark now. I hope we can strike the old mountain house, that is, if it isn't blown down. We'll try; come on." This old mountain house had originally been built for a cattle shelter, to protect the stock which ranged across the clearings in autumn. A desolate, barn-like structure upon the summit of Cushman which the fierce storms had done their best to demolish. "I see it," called back Tom. "Look! It's right ahead--a big black thing; it's the mountain house all right. Brace up; we've got to get inside. We're in luck to strike even this crazy old place." The old house, black and forlorn, stood there, its windows gone; through its empty casements the wind howled and whined. The flooring of loose planks flapped and tipped as the boys stepped inside. There was a rude loft, some timbers thrown across beams, where hay had been stored; against one side stood a rickety ladder. "Wish we could start a fire; I'm nearly frozen," spoke Ned. "No matches, anyhow and no fireplace in this old shebang," replied Tom regretfully. "Tell you what: perhaps we can find some hay left up in the loft and make a bunk; it would keep us warmer than staying down here."