The smooth slope of snow ran down as far as the eye could reach at a steep angle, filling up all crevices, with here and there a projecting rock or a dark clump of trees to break its surface.
The road was far beneath them.

The drivers had informed them that it was forty feet deep at the top of the pass, and that its depth here was over thirty.

Long poles which were inserted in the snow projected above its surface, and served to mark where the road ran.
Here, then, they drove along, feeling wearied with the length of the way, impatient at the slowness of their progress, and eager to reach their journey's end.

But little was said.

All had talked till all were tired out.