The snow no longer fell in such large flakes, nor as heavily.

A bitter wind succeeded; the soft snow began to stiffen and crackle under the horses' hoofs; they were no longer weighted and encumbered by the drifts upon their bodies; the smaller flakes now rustled and rasped against them like sand, or bounded from them like hail.

They seemed to be moving more easily and rapidly, their spirits were rising with the stimulus of cold and motion, when suddenly their leader halted.
"It's no use, boys.

It can't be done! This is no blizzard, but a regular two days' snifter! It's no longer meltin', but packin' and driftin' now.

Even if we get over the divide, we're sure to be blocked up in the pass." It was true! To their bitter disappointment they could now see that the snow had not really diminished in quantity, but that the now finely-powdered particles were rapidly filling all inequalities of the surface, packing closely against projections, and swirling in long furrows across the levels.