In every
direction they beheld snowy mountains, partially sprinkled with
pines and other evergreens, and spreading a desert and toilsome
world around them. The wind howled over the bleak and wintry
landscape, and seemed to penetrate to the marrow of their bones.
They waded on through the snow, which at every step was more than
knee deep.
After tolling in this way all day, they had the mortification to
find that they were but four miles distant from the encampment of
the preceding night, such was the meandering of the river among
these dismal hills. Pinched with famine, exhausted with fatigue,
with evening approaching, and a wintry wild still lengthening as
they advanced, they began to look forward with sad forebodings to
the night's exposure upon this frightful waste. Fortunately they
succeeded in reaching a cluster of pines about sunset. Their axes
were immediately at work; they cut down trees, piled them in
great heaps, and soon had huge fires "to cheer their cold and
hungry hearts."
About three o'clock in the morning it again began to snow, and at
daybreak they found themselves, as it were, in a cloud, scarcely
being able to distinguish objects at the distance of a hundred
yards. Guarding themselves by the sound of running water, they
set out for the river, and by slipping and sliding contrived to
get down to its bank.
