The horses decided it, breaking once again down wind, and striking a low-headed, sullen trot, as though they would out-march the storm.

And so the two argued, and so they rode, until at last there was a lurch and a crash, and they found themselves in rough going, the sled half overturned, with no fence, no house, no landmark of any sort visible, and the snow drifting thicker than before.

They sprang out and righted the sled, but the horses doggedly pulled on, plunging down and down; and they followed, clinging to reins and sled as best they might.
Either accident or the instinct of the animals had in some way taken them into rough, broken country, where they would find some shelter from the bitter level blast.

They were soon at the bottom of a flat and narrow valley, and above them the wind roared and drove ever on a white blanket that sought to cover them in and under.
"We've lost the trail, but we done the best we could," said Sam doggedly, going to the heads of the horses, which looked questioningly back at him, their heads drooping, their breath freezing upon their coats in spiculae of white.
"Wait!" cried Franklin.

"I know this hole! I've been here before.
The team's come here for shelter--" "Oh, it's the White Woman breaks--why, sure!" cried Sam in return.
"Yes, that's where it is.