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Updated: May 18, 2025
In their minds, however, were many questions. Would further tide-cracks impede their progress? Would the snow-fog continue? If it did, would they ever be able to locate the two tiny islands which were, after all, mere rocky pillars jutting from a sea of ice? Phi did not sit long on the ice-pile under the snow-fog. He was born for action. Something must be done. Quickly he was on the run.
He decided upon the latter course, and went at once to the body of the plane where were stored light, strong ropes of silk, and ice-anchors. He did not see the bear sitting patiently on his haunches beneath the tip of the long wing. Indeed, the snow-fog made it impossible, and it was equally impossible for the bear to see him.
He might easily have been totally indifferent to his misfortunes, to his failings, but why should they have pleased him? Carroll walked rapidly along the street until he reached Broadway again. It was a strange day; a sort of snow-fog was abroad. The air was dense and white. Now and then a mist of sleet fell, and the sidewalks were horribly treacherous.
The snow-fog drifted away and the moon came out. Lucile crept out of the cabin and went in search of some new form of food. She found the spare-ribs of a seal hanging over a pole on one of the caches. It seemed fairly fresh, and when a piece was set simmering over the seal-oil lamp it gave forth an appetizing odor. The two girls stood by the window as the food cooked.
"It's likely to last for days, and by that time " Marian's lips refused to frame the words that expressed their condition when the snow-fog lifted. "By that time " echoed Lucile. "But no, we must do something. Surely, there is some way!" "Without compass or guide?" Marian smiled at the impossibility of there being a solution. Unconsciously, she had repeated the first line of an old song.
They were two lone girls ten miles from any land, on the bosom of a vast ice-floe, which was slowly but surely creeping toward the unknown northern sea. They had no chart, no compass, no trail to follow and no guide. To move seemed futile, yet to remain where they were meant sure disaster. As if to complete the tragedy of the whole situation, a snow-fog drifted down upon them.
Lucile said over the verse: "Without compass or guide. On the crest of the tide. Oh! Light of the stars, Pray pilot me home." Involuntarily, her glance stole skyward. Instantly an exclamation escaped her lips: "Oh, Marian! We can see them! We can! We can!" "What can we see?" asked Marian. "The stars!" It was true. The snow-fog, though spread over the vast surface of the ice, was shallow.
He remembered his appointment at sunrise, and he wondered how long he had slept. Again he crept to the shed door. Again he looked out and finally passed out. Nick still slumbered heavily. The fury of the elements was unabated and they buffeted him; but he looked around and saw the grey daylight illuminating the snow-fog, and he knew that though sunrise was near it was not yet.
As we dipped down below the summit of the mountain, we stepped from under the snow-fog, as if it had been a great white, hanging nightcap. The air smelled like early winter, and was vibrant with the melody of cowbells. On snow-covered eminences near and far, dark, sentinel larches watched us, weeping slow tears from every naked spine.
The grey figure waited, and a moment later Aim-sa came to him again. Shortly after the door closed and the Spirit moved silently away. All was profoundly dark. The darkness of the night was a darkness that could be felt, for the merciless blizzard of the northern latitudes was raging at its full height. The snow-fog had risen and all sign of trail or footstep was swept from the icy carpet.
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