It was an unusually large trunk, and the tired horses floundered as they tightened the chain.

Thawing snow when beaten hard is as slippery as ice, but the animals kept their feet and the mass began to move.

Festing got a firm grip on the near horse's bridle and plodded forward cautiously, with the rain in his face when he crossed the openings in the wood.

The snow reflected a puzzling glimmer, but the darkness was thick among the trees, and drops from the shaking branches fell into his eyes.

Turning his hat-brim down, he felt for the edge of the trail.
By and by he stopped at the top of a descent.