Poor Sam was getting winded and skated only with the greatest of difficulty.
It was dark when they reached the location the guide had in mind--a rocky wall on one side of the river.

At one point there was a split in the rocks.

This was overgrown at the top with cedars and brushwood, forming something of a cave, ten or twelve feet wide and twice as deep, the bottom of which was of rock and fairly smooth.
"I camped here two winters ago," said John Barrow, as he called a halt.
"I laced up the cedars above and they formed a fust-rate roof." "I guess they are pretty well laced still," observed Dick.

"They seem to hold the snow very well.

But we won't dare to make a fire in there." "We'll build a fire in front, in this hollow, Dick.