and the swaying of the tree-tops told of the tempest that was raging outside.
“Suppose we camp here,” Rolfe suggested. “It’s a nasty storm, and we’ll hit a bad trail ahead over the burnt land.”
“But we can make it, all right,” North replied. “We don’t want to spend the afternoon and night here. We’re travelling light, remember, with very little grub for ourselves, and none for the dogs. There’s plenty at the patrol-house ahead, so we must make that. This storm may last for a couple of days.”
Rolfe saw the wisdom of the sergeant’s words, and lapsed into silence as he plodded steadily on. Ere long the trail led out of the woods into the open on a small lake. Here the wind showed some of its force, and swirled the light snow about their forms. But it was only after they had passed through another grove of trees and reached the burnt land did they feel the full sweep of the storm. Here thousands of rampikes stood gaunt and naked. Among these the snow was driving like millions of lances of the great unseen legions of the northland. The dogs flinched and whined as the tempest struck them. Even North and Rolfe were compelled to turn their faces from the stinging fury of the icy darts, while Marion was forced to cover her head completely with the fur rug.
“Can we make it?” Rolfe gaspingly asked. “This is terrible!”
“We must,” North replied. “We can’t stay here, and we can’t go back. Get out the snow-shoes, for the trail’s already full.”
With the snow-shoes donned, North spoke to the crouching dogs. But for the first time in their lives they refused to obey their master’s command.
