So the Mole got well into the dry leaves and stretched himself out, and presently dropped off into sleep, though of a broken and troubled sort; while the Rat covered himself up, too, as best he might, for warmth, and lay patiently waiting, with a pistol in his paw.

When at last the Mole woke up, much refreshed and in his usual spirits, the Rat said, “Now then! I’ll just take a look outside and see if everything’s quiet, and then we really must be off.”

He went to the entrance of their retreat and put his head out. Then the Mole heard him saying quietly to himself, “Hullo! hullo! here⁠— is ⁠—a⁠—go!”

“What’s up, Ratty?” asked the Mole.

“ Snow is up,” replied the Rat briefly; “or rather, down . It’s snowing hard.”