"That's quick," muttered Lucas, philosophically. "We'll hev to put off opinions till it's over," and he again sat down by the fire. The wind tore around the small cabin, furiously seeking an entrance, but finding none. Outside at least he could have his will, and his vengeance fell upon the sturdy young firs and spruces, who at his fierce word of command threw off their burdens of snow, and bent and swayed before his wrath as wildly as the most graceful hardwood saplings. The older trees bent more reluctantly. They had seen many winters, many storms, yet occasionally a groan burst from them as the raging breath of the wind monster blew around some decaying giant and hurled him to the ground.