[Subsection]

It was almost Christmas. Between Christmas and New Year it began snowing heavily.

Later that winter Per helped Father to clear tracks in the snow and dig out the piles of logs on the days when he was not at school. The woods were snowed under and broken down with snow. In the twilight you could be half afraid, there were so many distorted shapes. In sunshine it was like a fairy story, and even more so in the moonlight.

The timber tracks were deep gullies. It was heavy work to clear them. The piles of logs lay like sleepers deep in the drifts. You had to bring a shovel and bore your way in. Hi, wake up!---and when you had made a hole, the logs breathed strongly and warmly through the opening. The logs were dark, living animals down there; they had been lying breathing all the time. Mice had been running along them.

You're big now, Per; you must be good at clearing timber tracks and log piles.

Nobody said this, but it was demanded just the same, and he shovelled snow until his shirt was wet. When he took off his mittens, steam rose from his hands.

Father and Goldie slid along the deep channels Per cleared in the drifts. Father piled on heavy loads and Goldie pulled them.