errands, the faint voice under the
spruce branches rang in his ears. The voice was not so imperative
now, but it begged and implored him to hasten. "I'm coming, I'm
coming!" Jan whispered back. He had the sensation of one in a
nightmare who tries to run but who cannot take a step.

Lars had at last managed to get a horse into the shafts. Then the
womenfolk came and told him to be sure to take along straw and
blankets. This was all very well, but it meant still further delay.

Finally Lars and Jan and the hired boy drove away from the farm.
But they had got no farther than to the edge of the forest, when
Lars stopped the horse.

"One gets sort of rattled when one receives news of this kind,"
said he. "I never thought of it till just now--but Boerje is back at
the barn."

"It would have been well to have taken him along," said Jan, "for
he's twice as strong as any of us."

Then Lars sent the hired boy back to the farm to get Boerje; which
meant a long wait.

While Jan sat in the sledge, powerless to act, he felt as though
within him opened a big, empty ice-cold void. It was the awful
certainty that they would be too late!

Then at last came Boerje and the boy, all out of breath from
running, and now they drove on into the woods. They went very
slowly, though, for Lars had harnessed the old spavined bay to the
sledge. What he had said about his being rattled must have been
true, for all at once he wanted to turn in on the wrong road.

"If you go in that direction, we'll come to Great Peak," Jan told
him; "and we must get to the woods beyond Loby."

"Yes, I know," returned Lars, "but farther up there's a crossroad
where it's better driving."

"What road might that be? I've never seen it."

"Wait, and I'll show you," said Lars, determined to continue up the
mountain.

Now Boerje sided with Jan, so Lars had to give in of course; but
precious time had been consumed while they argued with him, and Jan
felt as if all the life had &one out of his body.

"Nothing matters now," thought he. "Eric of Falla will be beyond
our help when we arrive."

The old bay jogged along the forest road as well as it could, but
it had not the strength for a heavy pull like this. It was poorly
shod, and stumbled time after time. When going uphill the men had
to get down from the sledge and walk, and when they came upon
trackless unbeaten ground in the thick of the forest the horse was
almost more of a hindrance than a help.

At