CHAPTER XV
THE HART RIVER CACHE
The iron-clawed winter had come roaring out of the North and descended upon the hill country in a series of furious blizzards that enveloped the rock-ribbed land and the frozen surface of lakes and rivers in a man-deep thickness of snow. B Division slept in its mukluks, and generally speaking, its mukluks were far from headquarters. For the malevolent ferocity of the storms had caught many of the dwellers of the hills and the barrens unprepared, and tons of relief grub went out with the dog trains of the Mounted.
Corporal Rickey and Special Constable Connie Morgan were crowding Connie's team of ten big malamutes to reach Hart River cabin where the police cache would supply the grub for the one hundred and twenty mile return trip to Dawson.
"The MacPherson patrol ort to be along any day now, said Rickey, as the two camped for lunch in
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