35 



CHAPTER VIII 



ANUARY 2.— Overhead the dim blue of 

 a cloudless sky, with pale stars fading 

 from the dawn, and the great fiery 

 sun peeping over the hills, while every 

 tree and post upon the wayside loomed 

 weirdly through the hurrying mist. Be- 

 neath my foot the snow crunched sharply, 

 every crystal sparkling with many colours in the first 

 struggling rays of the rising sun. 



Soon the mist rolled in great banks across the fields 

 and filled alone the hollows, and out of these came 

 an early crow or two, flapping leisurely along with 

 an occasional querulous cry, and head turning from 

 side to side continually on the look-out for plunder. 



As I neared the North-West Arm, a solitary sleigh 

 glided past me, the horse's trot falling softly upon 

 the snow to the pleasing accompaniment of the tinkling 

 bells. Crossing the head of the Arm, I turned to 

 the south-east, ascending the road to the hanging 

 forest of hemlocks above, standing out darkly through 

 a faint enveloping mist, tinted with a soft light by 

 the morning sun. 



Presently I left the road and plunged into the solitude 

 of the fragrant pines and hemlocks, stepping over the 

 virgin snow that lay, crisp and glistening, fully five 

 inches in depth upon the ground. There were a few 

 wary old crows about these partially cleared outskirts 

 of the forest, calling to one another from the tree-tops 



