The dim light of the dawning day deepened the silence, so that involuntarily he hushed his voice in speaking, and the deep-toned roll of the sleigh-bells seemed to smite upon that dim, solemn quiet with startling blows.

On either side the balsams and spruces, with their mantles of snow, stood like white-swathed sentinels on guard--silent, motionless, alert.

Hughie looked to see them move as the team drove past.
As they left the more open butternut ridge and descended into the depths of the big pine swamp, the dim light faded into deeper gloom, and Hughie felt as if he were in church, and an awe gathered upon him.
"It's awful still," he said to Billy Jack in a low tone, and Billy Jack, catching the look in the boy's face, checked the light word upon his lips, and gazed around into the deep forest glooms with new eyes.

The mystery and wonder of the forest had never struck him before.

It had hitherto been to him a place for hunting or for getting big saw-logs.
But to-day he saw it with Hughie's eyes, and felt the majesty of its beauty and silence.