It began by being a gray day, too. The sun hidden and the wind
sighed mournfully in the pines. Long Jerry cocked his head knowingly
and said:

"It's borne in on me, youngsters, that you'll see a bit of hard
weather before the New Year--that it do."

"A snowstorm, Jerry?" queried Helen Cameron, clapping her hands.
"Oh, goody!"

"Dunno about it's being so everlastin' good," returned the guide.
"You never see a big snow up in these woods; did ye?"

"No, Jerry; but I want to. Don't you Ruth?"

"I love the snow," admitted Ruth Fielding. "But perhaps a snowstorm
in the wilderness is different from a storm in more civilized
communities."

"And you're a good guesser," grunted Long Jerry. "Anyhow, unless I'm
much mistook, you'll have means of knowin' afore long."

"Then," said Helen, to Ruth, "we must get the balsam to-day for our
pillows. It won't snow yet awhile, will it, Jerry?"

"May not snow at all to-day," replied the guide. "This weather we've
had for some days has been storm-breeding, and it's been long comin'.
It won't be soon past, I reckon."

This conversation occurred right after breakfast. The boys had seen