"You will have clear weather.

Coming back look well to the traces and keep a watch for the wolves." The long whips cracked, the bells jingled, the impatient horses plunged forward and away they went over the glistening snow.

The night was clear and cold; countless stars blinked in the black vault overhead; the pale moon cast its wintry light down on a white and frozen world.

As the runners glided swiftly and smoothly onward showers of dry snow like fine powder flew from under the horses' hoofs and soon whitened the black-robed figures in the sleds.

The way led down the hill past the Fort, over the creek bridge and along the road that skirted the Black Forest.