As they went down the mountain side they kept a watch for the sight of any objects that would indicate a road, or tell them their whereabouts. But all they could see was an expanse of snow, a whirling, white cloud of flakes, with here and there the black trunks of trees standing up like grim sentinels.
"We might as well be a thousand miles from nowhere," called Dick.
"That's right," answered his companion. "I wonder if we're going straight?"
"Isn't much choice. We'll be on level ground in a little while, anyhow. Then the going will be better."
They emerged from the thickly wooded side of the big hill, and came upon a plain, which did not look familiar. It was open country, however, and this was better than being in the woods, though the cold wind had more of a sweep over it.
"Now, which way?" asked Paul. "I've lost all sense of direction."
"And I'm not much better. Suppose we let the horses go as they please? Maybe they'll have sense enough to head toward their stables."
"Good idea, we'll do it."
They let the reins hang loose on the necks of the animals. The steeds hesitated for a moment, sniffed the air, and then started off to the left.
"I hope that's right, but it doesn't seem so,"
