ank from contemplating the distance yet to be covered; it
seemed vast to him in his weakness, and he felt himself a feeble,
crippled thing. Soft snow and Arctic cold opposed his advance with
malignant force, but his worn-out body still obeyed the spur of his
will, and he roused himself to fight for the life that had some value
to another. He must march, dividing up the distance into short stages
that had less effect upon the imagination; limping forward from the
ice-glazed rock abreast of him to the white hillock which loomed up
dimly where the snow blurred the horizon. Then he would again look
ahead from some patch of scrub to the most prominent elevation that he
could see.

The marks he chose and passed seemed innumerable, but the wilderness
still ran on, pitilessly empty, in front of him. His leg was horribly
painful, he knew he must break down soon, and they had seen nothing of
a stony rise they were looking for. To find it would simplify matters,
because the Indian had made them understand that the bluffs about the
post lay nearly east of it.

Noon passed and they still pressed forward without a halt, for there
was little more than three hours' daylight left, and it was unthinkable
that they should spend the night without food or shelter. The horizon
steadily narrowed as the snow thickened; there was a risk of their
passing the guiding-marks or even the factory.

It was nearly three o'clock when Harding stumbled and falling into the
snow found himself unable to get up until Benson helped him. In his
attempt to rise he further strained his weakened leg and for a moment
or two he leaned on his companion, his face contorted with pain.

"The fall seems to have hurt you," Benson said sympathetically.

"I'll have to go on," Harding gasped and, setting his teeth, strode
forward, made a few paces with horrible pain, and then sank down on his
knees.

The others stopped in consternation and Blake said, "If I've kept the
right line, we can't be far from the factory."

"I'm played out," said Harding. "You'll have to leave me here. If you
make the post, you can come back with a sledge."

"No," Blake answered shortly. "How are we to find you with our trail
drifting up? Besides, you'd be frozen in a few hours. If you can't
walk, you'll have to be carried. Get hold of him, Benson."

Benson lifted him to his feet, Blake seized his arm, and, both
supporting him, they resumed the march. Leaning on them heavily