" He lowered his
voice. "This is the worst place in the Sawtooth Range to be caught, and
I'll have to depend upon you to do a man's work. Losing the way now
would be a desperate matter, but of course we must not let her know how
desperate," with a gesture toward the sled.
When Allan forged ahead into the thickness of the whirling snow, and
disappeared completely, the boy felt a strange dread of the unknown.
There was something appalling in the mighty force of the Arctic blizzard
that had fallen full upon them. Something ghostly in the silent,
motionless figure of the Woman, covered as with a pall, by the drifting
snow, and in the shadowy string of dogs faintly seen, from time to time,
when a rare lull cleared the air to a dim and misty grayness. Something
terrifying in the cruel sting of the bitter wind that cut into the flesh
like whip-lashes, and shrieked and howled in its unspent rage over that
lonely and desolate mountain fastness.
It seemed ages before "Scotty" returned to report that there was no sign
of a trail. "I used to know this country fairly well, and I think I'd
better go on before the team for a while to try to keep at least in the
right direction. But I'll have to put another dog in the lead with Kid.
It's almost impossible to make any headway, and two of the strongest
dogs will barely be able to hold up against this blow."
He thought deeply for a moment. Life or death might hinge upon his
selection of dogs that would follow him through danger and disaster
unfalteringly, unflinchingly.
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