The party had two sledges. Anderson and Ole, being the only members
experienced with dogs, taking charge of the sledges, instructed the
others. One who has never had the pleasure cannot appreciate how much
sport goes with the skilful manipulation of a dog team. The greenhorns
soon learned. A temperature several degrees above zero, dead calm, a
blinding glare from the undulating snowfields, and their own panting
exertions quickly brought out the perspiration. Edith bore it with
compressed lips, the Doctor grinned like a cat in pain, and Drake,
wishing he might lie down and die, contented himself with a continuous
profane commentary on the dogs, the desolate landscape and the idiot
who had dragged him into this brainless mess.
Drake's misery reached its climax when he was just on the point of
abandoning the expedition after three gruelling hours of elaborate
awkwardness. His sledge at the moment was careering sideways like a
crab down a gentle ice slope which the winds had swept clean of ice
crystals. Reaching the bottom without mishap he stubbed his toe on some
hard obstruction cunningly concealed beneath the loose drift. At the
same instant one runner of the sledge found another stumbling block.
Before Drake knew what it was all about he was sprawling on his back
like a lanky frog in the snow, his sledge was upside down, and the dear
dogs had tied themselves into a true lovers' knot.
Scrambling to his feet he forgot Edith, his surroundings, everything
in fact but his fluent vocabulary. His rhythmic denunciation of the
universe brought a blush to the ears of the sensitive Ole, who at
that moment was acting as Edith's instructor. Quitting Edith's side
with alacrity Ole hastened over to extinguish Drake. Anderson and the
Doctor, taking things easy, were some distance ahead. In that clear,
cold air every syllable carried like a bullet. They spun round as if
shot by a machine gun.
"Great Scott!" said the Doctor, "I didn't know he had that much in him.
Let us go back and see what brought it out."
Ole discovered the cause of offense before the others reached the spot.
Drake's eruption had ceased abruptly in an ominous calm. With a glare
of suppressed rage he stood regarding Ole's dangerously inviting pose.
The mate was on his knees scratching like a terrier to scoop away the
loose snow from a black object, of which the pointed cap had already
been exposed by his frantic enthusiasm.
"Ah," he puffed, "you are a born researcher, Mr. Drake. Invisible
though this was to the naked eye you found it. You have the scientific
penetration, the genius that sees through deceptive appearances to the
underlying truth."
Drake, speechless, considered. Should he give Ole a thundering kick, or
was his toe too sore? By habit he kicked only with his right foot, the
one which had 'researched' Ole's treasure. He decided for peace.
"What is it, idiot?"