The sled runners would not slide over it so well, while one of the men must go in advance of the dogs and pack it down with snowshoes so that they should not wallow.
Quite different was it from the ordinary snow known to those of the Southland.

It was hard, and fine, and dry.

It was more like sugar.
Kick it, and it flew with a hissing noise like sand.

There was no cohesion among the particles, and it could not be moulded into snowballs.

It was not composed of flakes, but of crystals--tiny, geometrical frost-crystals.