"Of course we can't expect any help to-night," said Helen. "But I
know that they'll start out hunting for us at daybreak, no matter
whether it keeps on snowing, or not."

"And a nice time they'll have finding us down in this hole,"
complained Belle Tingley.

"Lucky I fell into this hole, just the same," remarked Heavy. "It
just about saved our lives."

"But I guess we would have been a whole lot better off if we hadn't
moved from the first big tree Ruth got us to creep under," Helen
said, thoughtfully. "We couldn't have been more than two miles from
Snow Camp then. _Now_ we don't know where we are."

"Never mind that, Helen," advised Madge. "Help get in the wood. Now,
we want a big, rousing fire. We'll just heat that old rock up so that
it will stay warm all night. It will be like sleeping as the Russian
peasants do--on top of their stoves."

They had piled the brush on the coals, after scraping the coals back
upon the ledge, and the firelight was dancing far up the rock, and
shining out into the steadily drifting snow, when suddenly Helen
seized her chum's hand and cried:

"Listen! what's that?"

The girls grew silent instantly--and showing no little fear. From
somewhere out in the storm a cry came to their ears.