If
they found then that the snow did not melt, so that they could see the
path again, it would be better to return altogether, as their chance
of being able to follow the path back toward their home would be much
greater than that of pursuing it forward; for they might expect to
find some guidance, in going back, by their recognition of the place
which they had passed in ascending.
Forester, however, did not happen to think of this; and so when it
began to snow, his only immediate desire was to go forward as fast as
possible, so as to get into the woods again where he and Marco would
be in some measure under shelter.
Marco finding that Forester appeared somewhat anxious, began to feel
some sentiment of fear himself.
"Who would have thought," said he, "that we should have got caught out
in this snow-storm?"
"Oh, it is not a snow-storm," replied Forester. "It is only a little
snow flurry. It will be over in a few minutes."
"How do you know that it is not going to be a snow-storm?" asked
Marco.
"Because storms never come out of the west," replied Forester.
It snowed, however, faster and faster, and the ground soon began to be
entirely whitened. Forester pressed on, but he soon found himself at
a loss for his way. The air was so filled with the descending flakes,
that he could see only a very short distance before him.
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