The Gap before night, round up a team of dogs and come back early to-morrow.”
Marion’s face turned pale at the suggestion, although she said nothing. Rolfe knew that the sergeant was right, although he felt badly at being forced to give up.
“‘Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!’” he quoted.
“‘This is the state of man—’”
“Never mind about your greatness,” the sergeant interrupted. “We know all about that, and also your state at the present time. Get to work at once and build as good a shelter as you can. There’s a fine clump of trees right over there,” and he motioned to the left. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
He then turned to Marion, who was standing silently near.
“Tom will look after you,” he told her. “Except for his poetry, he is all right. He needs to be brought back to earth occasionally, that’s all.”
He then stooped and kissed her. For a few seconds she clung to him, and there were tears in her eyes.
“Take care of yourself, John,” she said, “I am sorry to give you so much trouble. But for me, you both would be at The Gap by this time. But, there, I must not detain you any longer.”
Hour after hour North moved on his way, up hill and down, through thick woods and across barren regions. He was greatly hampered by his miserable snow-shoes. They lacked the spring and buoyancy of the ones he had lost. Often they clogged with snow, and he could not tell at what minute they might go to pieces. He was forced to use the greatest care as he well knew how much depended upon his getting to The Gap for
