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He did his utmost to exert his remaining strength. Darkness at last came on. He fancied he could distinguish a wood and a range of hills in the distance. He would make a desperate effort to reach it. Suddenly he found himself sinking in the snow. He struggled to get out, but sank lower and lower. He had fallen into a gully or water-course, now filled up by drift-snow.
Half an hour later, when Peter and Jolly Roger looked back from the crest of the ridge, a red pillar of flame lighted up the gloomy chaos of the unpeopled world they were leaving behind them. The wind was driving fiercely from the Barren and with it came stinging volleys of the fine drift-snow. In the teeth of it Roger McKay stared back. "It's a good fire," he mumbled in his hood.
"No, no, Dominique, it was a flurry of snow blowing over my shoulder." "But it looked at me with two shining eyes." "That was two stars shining through the door, my son." "How could there be snow flying and stars shining, too, father?" "It was just drift-snow on a light wind, but the stars were shining above, Dominique."
Fine extremely fine drift-snow collected, and formed small cylindrical bodies of an average diameter of 1 1/4 inches, and about the same height; they were, however, of various sizes. They generally rolled over the surface like a wheel, and now and then collected into large heaps, from which again, one by one, or several together, they continued their rolling.
Half an hour later, when Peter and Jolly Roger looked back from the crest of the ridge, a red pillar of flame lighted up the gloomy chaos of the unpeopled world they were leaving behind them. The wind was driving fiercely from the Barren and with it came stinging volleys of the fine drift-snow. In the teeth of it Roger McKay stared back. "It's a good fire," he mumbled in his hood.
"Half an hour and it will be out. There'll be nothing for Breault to find if this wind keeps up another two hours nothing but drift-snow, with no sign of trail or cabin." He struck out, leaving the shelter of the ridge. Straight south he went, keeping always in the open spaces where the wind-swept drift covered his snowshoe trail almost as soon as it was made. Darkness did not trouble him now.
He was suddenly inspired. It was the realization of the condition of the night which put the thought into his head. With a bound he sprang back to the door and flung it open. To an extent the storm-porch was sheltered, and little drift-snow had blown in to cover the traces of footsteps. Down he dropped upon hands and knees. Instantly all his trailing instincts were bent upon his task.
If so, they will plunge in so deep that some of them will not be able to get out before we have thrown the ropes round their necks." "I see," said Pablo; "very good soon catch them." Before daylight they went with the dogs and a large bundle of hay, which they strewed nearer to the mound of drift-snow. They then tied the dogs up on each side, ordering them to lie down and be quiet.
Within the shelter of these cramped but comparatively palatial quarters cheerfulness once more reigned amongst the party. The blizzard, however, soon discovered the flaws in the architecture of their hut, and the fine drift-snow forced its way through the crevices between the stones forming the end walls.
They then walked through the thicket so as not to be perceived, until they considered that they were far enough from the drift-snow. About daylight, the herd came to pick up the hay as usual, and after they had passed them Humphrey and Pablo followed in the thicket, not wishing to show themselves till the last moment.
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