ther
woman--the Girl--whose picture he carried in his pocket. This was _her_
world that he was entering. She was up there--somewhere--and he looked
over the barriers of the forest to the northwest. Hundreds of miles
away. A thousand. It was a big world, so vast that he still could not
comprehend it. But she was there, living, breathing, _alive_! A sudden
impulse made him draw the picture from his pocket. He held it down
behind a bale, so that Father Roland would not chance to see it if he
looked back. He unwrapped the picture, and ceased to puff at his pipe.
The Girl was wonderful to-day, under the sunlight and the blue halo of
the skies, and she wanted to speak to him. That thought always came to
him first of all when he looked at her. She wanted to speak. Her lips
were trembling, her eyes were looking straight into his, the sun above
him seemed to gleam in her hair. It was as if she knew of the thoughts
that were in his mind, and of the fight he was making; as though through
space she had seen him, and watched him, and wanted to cry out for him
the way to come. There was a curious tremble in his fingers as he
restored the picture to his pocket. He whispered something. His pipe had
gone out. In the same moment a sharp cry from Father Roland startled
him. The dogs halted suddenly. The creaking of the sledge runners
ceased.
Father Roland had turned his face down the lake, and was pointing.
"Look!" he cried.
David jumped from the sledge and stared back over their trail. The
scintillating gleams of the snow crystals were beginning to prick his
eyes, and for a few moments he could see nothing new. He heard a muffled
ejaculation of surprise from Mukoki. And then, far back--probably half a
mile--he saw a dark object travelling slowly toward them. It stopped. It
was motionless as a dark rock now. Close beside him the Little Missioner
said:
"You've won again, David. Baree is following us!"
The dog came no nearer as they watched. After a moment David pursed his
lips and sent back a curious, piercing whistle. In days to come Baree
was to recognize that call, but he gave no attention to it now. For
several minutes they stood gazing back at him. When they were ready to
go on David for a third time that day put on his snow shoes. His task
seemed less difficult. He was getting the "swing" of the shoes, and his
breath came more easily. At the end of half an hour Father Roland halted
the team again to give him a "winding" sp
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