ten o'clock
And we had better hurry , '' he added , with a glance at the sky . `` For I guess there 's a storm coming ; feels like it . '' In a yellow-birch top at a little opening near the old road we saw two partridges eating buds ; Addison shot one of them and took it along , slung to his gun barrel . The faint trail of the sled continued along the old winter road all the way up to the clearing where the negro had lived , and by ten o'clock we came into view of the two log cabins . Very still and solitary they looked under that cold gray sky . `` No smoke , '' Addison said . `` But we 'll soon know . ''