THEREisnodenyingitwasabeastofaday.Overheadwasasunlesssky，muffledincloudsthatwereheavywithsnow；underfoot，ablackfrost；blowingoverit，awindthatfeltasifitwouldtakeyourskinoff.Whentheygotdownintotheplaintheyfoundthatthispartoftheancientroadwasmuchmoreruinousthananytheyhadyetseen.Theyhadtopicktheirwayovergreatbrokenstonesandbetweenbouldersandacrossrubble：hardgoingforsorefeet.And，howevertiredtheygot，itwasfartoocoldforahalt.
Ataboutteno’clockthefirsttinysnowflakescameloiteringdownandsettledonJill’sarTenminuteslatertheywerefallingquitethickly.Intwentyminutesthegroundwasnoticeablywhite.Andbytheendofhalfanhouragoodsteadysnowstorm，whichlookedasifitmeanttolastallday，wasdrivingintheirfacessothattheycouldhardlysee.
Inordertounderstandwhatfollowed，youmustkeeponrememberinghowlittletheycouldsee.Astheydrewnearthelowhillwhichseparatedthemfromtheplacewherethelightedwindowshadappeared，theyhadnogeneralviewofitatall.Itwasaquestionofseeingthenextfewpacesahead，and，evenforthat，youhadtoscrewupyoureyes.Needlesstosay，theywerenottalking.
Whentheyreachedthefootofthehilltheycaughtaglimpseofwhatmightberocksoneachside—squarishrocks，ifyoulookedatthemcarefully，butnoonedid.Allweremoreconcernedwiththeledgerightinfrontofthemwhichbarredtheirway.Itwasaboutfourfeethigh.TheMarsh-wiggle，withhislonglegs，hadnodifficultyinjumpingontothetopofit，andhethenhelpedtheothersup.Itwasanastywetbusinessforthem，thoughnotforhim，becausethesnownowlayquitedeepontheledge.Theythenhadastiffclimb—Jillfellonce—upveryroughgroundforaboutahundredyards，andcametoasecondledge.Therewerefouroftheseledgesaltogether，atquiteirregularintervals.
Astheystruggledontothefourthledge，therewasnomistakingthefactthattheywerenowatthetopoftheflathill.Uptillnowtheslopehadgiventhemsomeshelter；here，theygotthefullfuryofthewind.Forthehill，oddlyenough，wasquiteasflatontopasithadlookedfromadistance：agreatleveltablelandwhichthestormtoreacrosswithoutresistance.Inmostplacesthesnowwasstillhardlylyingatall，forthewindkeptcatchingitupoffthegroundinsheetsandclouds，andhurlingitintheirfaces.Androundtheirfeetlittleeddiesofsnowranaboutasyousometimesseethemdoingoverice.And，indeed，inmanyplaces，thesurfacewasalmostassmoothasice.Buttomakemattersworseitwascrossedandcrisscrossedwithcuriousbanksordykes，whichsometimesdivideditupintosquaresandoblongs.Alltheseofcoursehadtobeclimbed；theyvariedfromtwotofivefeetinheightandwereaboutacoupleofyardsthick.Onthenorthsideofeachbankthesnowalreadylayindeepdrifts；andaftereachclimbyoucamedownintoadriftandgotwet.
Fightingherwayforwardwithhoodupandheaddownandnumbhandsinsidehercloak，Jillhadglimpsesofotheroddthingsonthathorribletableland—thingsonherrightthatlookedvaguelylikefactorychimneys，and，onherleft，ahugecliff，straighterthananycliffoughttobe.Butshewasn’tatallinterestedanddidn’tgivethemathought.Theonlythingsshethoughtaboutwerehercoldhands（andnoseandchinandears）andhotbathsandbedsatHarfang.
Suddenlysheskidded，slidaboutfivefeet，andfoundherselftoherhorrorslidingdownintoadark，narrowchasmwhichseemedthatmomenttohaveappearedinfrontofher.HalfasecondlatershehadreachedthebottoSheappearedtobeinakindoftrenchorgroove，onlyaboutthreefeetwide.Andthoughshewasshakenbythefall，almostthefirstthingshenoticedwasthereliefofbeingoutofthewind；forthewallsofthetrenchrosehighaboveher.Thenextthingshenoticedwas，naturally，theanxiousfacesofScrubbandPuddleglumlookingdownatherfromtheedge.
“Areyouhurt，Pole？”
shoutedScrubb.
“Bothlegsbroken，Ishouldn’twonder，”
shoutedPuddleglu
Jillstoodupandexplainedthatshewasallright，butthey’dhavetohelpherout.
“Whatisityou’vefalleninto？”
askedScrubb.
“It’sakindoftrench，oritmightbeakindofsunkenlaneorsomething，”
saidJill.“Itrunsquitestraight.”
“Yes，byJove，”
saidScrubb.“Anditrunsduenorth！
Iwonderisitasortofroad？Ifitwas，we’dbeoutofthisinfernalwinddownthere.Istherealotofsnowatthebottom？”
“Hardlyany.Itallblowsoverthetop，Isuppose.”
“Whathappensfartheron？”
“Halfasecond.I’llgoandsee，”
saidJill.Shegotupandwalkedalongthetrench；butbeforeshehadgonefar，itturnedsharplytotheright.Sheshoutedthisinformationbacktotheothers.
“What’sroundthecorner？”
askedScrubb.
NowithappenedthatJillhadthesamefeelingabouttwistypassagesanddarkplacesunderground，orevennearlyunderground，thatScrubbhadabouttheedgesofcliffs.Shehadnointentionofgoingroundthatcorneralone；especiallywhensheheardPuddleglumbawlingoutfrombehindher：
“Becareful，Pole.It’sjustthesortofplacethatmightleadtoadragon’scave.Andinagiantcountry，theremightbegiantearth-wormsorgiantbeetles.”
“Idon’tthinkitgoesanywheremuch，”
saidJill，cominghastilyback.
“I’mjollywellgoingtohavealook，”
saidScrubb.“Whatdoyoumeanbyanywheremuch，Ishouldliketoknow？”
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