fall to the ground, a filmy sheet
of ice. The heads of the huskies were clouded with smoke, so that they
seemed to be on fire as they panted forward dragging on the traces.

The tracks, which he was following, now branched off to the left, and,
mounting the river-bank, entered into a little hollow at the edge of
the forest. Here, about the base of a tree, the snow had been recently
trampled and a fire smouldered. It was Spurling's first camp.
Granger, having unharnessed and fed his huskies, taking his axe from
his girdle, cut down a sapling fir and roused the dying embers to a
blaze. The flames shot up, and, climbing the bark of the tree,
crackled among the branches overhead. Unpacking his tallow he melted
it in a cup. Before it was all drunk, the surface was frozen solid.
Then, lest his muscles should stiffen, he set out again.

The air was full of minute particles of snow, like frozen dew, which
caused the whole atmosphere, as far as eye could reach, to sparkle in
the sunshine. The sky was greenish grey and without a cloud. The
stillness of the world was magical; in the miles of landscape which
were visible, nothing stirred. The snapping of a twig sounded like the
crashing ruin of a forest giant. The gliding of the sled across the
snow, and the padding footsteps of the huskies, thundered down the
tunnel of the river through the pines like the galloping of heavy
artillery over gravel. When, at rare intervals, the river cracked,
perhaps four or five miles away, it reverberated through the
tree-tops, causing their burden of snow to tremble and glisten, like
the report of neighbouring cannon. Every whisper was exaggerated to a
shout, so that the ears were deafened and longed for quiet--quiet
which, unlike silence, consisted of a multitude of small sounds
singing, almost inaudibly, together.

Shortly after noon the light faded, and the blinding whiteness was
converted into iron grey. Over to the westward the sun was hidden, and
the horizon became threatening with a leaden bank of cloud. The
temperature sank lower and the twilight was obliterated; night rushed
down.

The dogs were now thoroughly worn out; only by continual lashing
could he keep them to their work. The roughness of the ice had mangled
their feet; they marked out the trail which they traversed with
crimson dots of blood. He had hoped to reach Spurling's next
camping-place before making another halt; but his rate of travelling
had grown slower, and alrea