Also a loaf of bread and a pound of crackers. Then there's
three cans of fruit, a dozen potatoes, six eggs, a quart of milk,
and half a pound of pressed figs. After that we'll paw with the
pony."
"I wonder if we couldn't get some game?" inquired Ollie.
"Snow-birds, maybe," said Jack. "Or perhaps an owl. I've
heard b'iled owl spoken of."
After all, the prospect was not so bad. Besides, it was so
early in the season that it did not seem at all likely that we
should be snowbound a week. Still, we knew little about the
mountain climate.
We got on our overcoats and went out and gave the horses
their breakfast. Old Blacky was still cross, but Jack contented
himself by calling him a few names. We also got up what wood we
could and piled it against the wagon, for use in case our
kerosene became exhausted, though we decided to cook in the wagon
for the present. The snow was seven or eight inches deep, and
still falling rapidly. After breakfast we took the pony down to a
little open fiat and turned her loose. The old instinct of her
wild days came back to her, and she began to paw away the snow
and gnaw at the scanty grass beneath.
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