"Oh, but we'll be all right, I am sure!" quoth Madge. "Don't get
down-hearted, girls."

Helen broke down next and declared that she could not remain idle
any longer. "We must move out of this," she said. "We must find our
way back. Why, they might come this way hunting for us and never find
us--go right by the tree. We ought to get outside and shout, at least."

"Don't let's leave this warm shelter," begged Ruth. "It will be
really serious if we move farther from the regular camp instead of
toward it"

"But we cannot hear any rescue party shouting for us, nor can they
hear us under this drift," insisted Helen.

"Then we'll go out, one at a time, and shout," declared Ruth. "Let
me try."

She sprang up and pushed her way through the drift at the mouth of
their burrow. Not until she was standing outside did she realize the
extent of the storm. The snow was swept across the country in a thick
and heavy curtain, with a wind driving it, against which she knew she
could not stand.

She could not shout into the teeth of the gale, and her cry was
driven back into her own ears as weak as the mew of a kitten.

"Ho!" exclaimed Madge Steele. "They couldn't hear that if they were
a stone's throw off. Let _me_ give a warwhoop."