_LOST IN THE DRIFTING SNOW._
While the incorrigible Mr. Broom was sitting on his bunk making
prodigious efforts at harmony, David and Kasba were preparing to fetch
the deer that had fallen to the boy’s gun on the previous day. The sled
was brought to the door and packed with sundry cooking utensils, and,
this completed, David drew the wrapper together and lashed it with a
clapmatch line, tucking his rifle and axe under the lashing at the top
of the load to be handy in case of need.
Meanwhile Kasba caught and harnessed the dogs, and everything being
ready, she started off at a quick walk. Barking joyfully, the dogs
bounded after, while David sat astride the loaded sled, laughing and
jubilant.
Mile after mile was accomplished in this manner till the sun peeped over
the horizon, and Kasba, bethinking herself of breakfast, slackened her
pace, keeping a wary eye for a suitable place for a halt. After
journeying a short distance she came to a place where there were
sufficient spruce trees and enough dry wood for their purpose.
Stepping suddenly, she turned and called to the dogs, who required no
encouragement to increase their efforts. The girl’s act was significant:
they knew exactly what was about to happen. With lolling tongues and
panting breath they reached the girl and threw themselves down to snatch
the few minutes’ rest which they knew would be allowed them.
David dropped from the sled to his feet, took his axe and attacked a few
dead spruce trees while Kasba, obedient to Indian custom, made a fire
and put a kettle on the burning embers. Contrary to the old proverb that
“a watched pot never boils,” the water in this kettle was soon bubbling,
and the two young people sank upon the brush which David had strewn
beside the fire, eating their scanty breakfast with eager relish. The
meal did not occupy many minutes, however, and they were soon on their
way again.
The morning was bright, and the cold acted as a stimulant on the two.
Kasba walked quickly over the snow with easy, buoyant steps, gazing on
the monotonous scene with eager eyes. The branches of the spruce had
taken unto themselves a covering of white, sparkling crystals which
easily outvied in beauty the trees’ natural verdure. Large flocks of
willow partridges ran about on the smooth white crust or delved into the
snow, occasionally disappearing into the thickest part of the scrub for
safety when a partridge-hawk hovered ominously over them. The sky was
blue and cloudless save for a few white fleeces floating low down upon
the horizon. The air was clear and still. A cut track led through the
thicker part of the scrub to a lake two or three miles in width. Half
way across this icebound lake the dogs espied a number of deer grouped
together, not far to the right, watching their progress; with a
lightning-like movement the leader diverged from the straight course and
made toward the deer, which, perceiving no danger, were now calmly
approaching the objects of their curiosity. But after drawing quite
close they made a sudden retrograde movement, then ran around in
circles. At intervals they stopped in their course to scrutinize the
dogs anew.
As the dogs started on their wild rush after the deer, Kasba joined
David in dragging on the head-line, but even the combined efforts of the
two had no effect in staying them.
Scenting danger, the deer soon made off at a long, easy trot with the
dogs in wild pursuit, until the sled’s coming in contact with a large
block of ice threw Kasba forward, and she was dragged rapidly onward
until, her arms growing tired, the line slipped from her grasp and the
dogtrain quickly shot ahead.
Gathering herself up the girl stood looking after the disappearing sled
with a rueful countenance and combined feelings of mortification and
disgust at her ignominious position.
Meanwhile David was speeding over the ice in a manner calculated to
break his neck, but a momentary delay occasioned by the sled colliding
with the stump of a tree on the farther side of the lake gave him an
opportunity to regain control of the dogs, which he halted, and then
waited for Kasba to come up.
When the discomfited girl at length reached them David gazed at her
mutely for a moment, then the woeful expression on her face somehow
tickled the boy’s sense of humor and he burst into a fit of loud
laughter.
This sudden change from extreme gravity to boisterous gaiety startled
Kasba, who stood for a moment irresolute, then threw herself beside him
on the sled, laughing hysterically.
Presently, as David’s wandering gaze became fixed upon the sky, his
gaiety ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and he sat staring at the
threatening storm-clouds which were silently creeping upward. Then,
jumping hastily off the sled, he “drove up” his dogs with all vigor.
Kasba, shivering, drew the hood of her coat, which had slipped back
during her frantic slide on the lake, upon her head with a quick pull,
for a keen and cutting wind was rising, and started off at a quick trot
in the direction pointed out by her companion.
Soon a large, dark heap, marked by a fluttering handkerchief tied to a
stick, came into view. The girl divined that it was the object of their
journey and ran straight toward it. As she approached a number of small
white animals stood about it barking shrilly. They were the white foxes
of the North, and appeared about to defend their position, but a nearer
approach disconcerted them and they scuttled off to a safe distance,
where they sat watching events. Not all, however, for David had set
steel traps around the deer the day before, and a few foxes were caught.
The weather now looked ominous, and no time was lost in loading the sled
with meat. The train was then turned toward home, and Kasba started back
against the wind with a resolute look on her small brown face. David
urged the dogs along with loud cracks of the whip, for the wind had
risen and was now rushing across the plain in a biting blast, while
large dark clouds, which had suddenly appeared upon the horizon, spread
rapidly over the sky like huge phantoms, extinguishing the sun in a veil
of vapor. David adjured Kasba to make all speed and “drove up” his dogs
with renewed energy. Hurrying on, they stopped for nothing, till
presently the “little hill,” which meant home, could be dimly seen in
the distance.
The girl breathed a sigh of relief, for she realized that the Fort was
only a few miles beyond the hill. But her comfort was short-lived. The
wind, as if regretting its previous leniency toward them, now burst into
a hurricane, and all sounds were drowned by its howlings, while the
whirlwinds of snow which it raised filled the air and completely
obscured objects a few yards distant.
As the storm cast its cutting ice-dust against David’s face, he could
not even see the dogs. He halted them and shouted loudly for Kasba to
come back, then fired his rifle several times. He waited five minutes,
ten minutes, but the moments passed and the girl did not appear. He
walked forward as far as he dared, but returned immediately, for he
could not see two paces from him and the drifting snow obliterated every
footmark.
David paused irresolutely. He hated to proceed without Kasba, yet he
felt that to remain would be a useless sacrifice, for he was utterly
helpless in such a blizzard. Besides, Kasba was walking in the right
direction when last he saw her, and she might possibly stumble upon the
Fort. It would be a miracle, he knew, but miracles did sometimes happen.
Thus buoying up his hopes for Kasba’s safety, he determined to trust to
the sagacity of the dogs to take him home.
But the dogs were now lying down and showed a decided objection to the
biting wind and drifting snow. Finding his efforts to make them draw the
loaded sled of no avail, he hastily threw off the meat, and again
endeavored to start them. Presently an idea of what their driver
required seemed to dawn upon the dogs, and, their speed accelerated by a
few sharp cuts of the whip, they started off so suddenly that they left
David standing where he was; and it was only with the utmost difficulty
that he caught them up and threw himself on the empty sled, where he lay
prone upon his face, burying his head in the heavy sled wrapper.
If David’s condition was precarious, Kasba’s at the same time was even
more perilous. Had she remained where she was when the hurricane burst
upon them the dogs would have overtaken her, for they soon passed the
spot on their way to the Fort. But, in her trepidation, she had
endeavored to return to David, and this proved her undoing. The clouds
of whirling snow thickened as she scudded along, a mere play-thing for
the wind. Then suddenly there was a muffled shout and the girl turned
quickly in the direction of the sound, and endeavored to reach the spot
from whence it came. But the wind caught her again, driving her before
it until she had totally lost any vague idea she had previously
entertained concerning her position.
Notwithstanding this, she persevered. She walked till she was well
assured that she had lost David in the drifting snow, then she turned,
and made prodigious efforts to reach a place of shelter. By keeping the
wind in her face, she felt that she was going in the right direction,
but thick clouds of snow struck her at close intervals and prevented her
from seeing a yard before her, while the force of the wind was such that
it was almost impossible at times for her to stand upright against it.
To dream of reaching the Fort in such weather was simply madness, and
the poor girl had no choice but to proceed at random with the slender
hope of finding some shelter from the strength of the blizzard, and soon
she felt that nothing short of a miracle could save her, and staggered
forward with a prayer on her lips. But the thought of her poor old
father’s terrible grief should she perish in the cold, forced her onward
and kept her weary legs from sinking beneath her. With the heroism of a
martyr the girl endeavored to do for his sake what, as she felt, she had
neither the will nor the strength to accomplish for her own, and she
stood for a moment in dull despair, worn out by cold, fatigue and
hunger, for she had eaten nothing since their hasty breakfast early that
morning. Nature called to her loudly to discontinue her arduous efforts
and sink down upon the snow, but distracted though the girl was, she
fully understood that should she succumb to the languor she was feeling,
a little white mound would soon mark her last resting-place. Filial
affection was strong within her, and with superhuman efforts she
staggered forward. After half-an-hour’s desperate struggle with the
hurricane—half an hour which to her appeared like a century—the girl
stumbled and fell. She quickly recovered herself but had not proceeded
many steps before she fell again. This time the fall well-nigh deprived
her of the little energy now left her, and it was with great difficulty
that she regained her feet.
As she endeavored to shake off the numbing effects of the intense cold,
she looked around her, gradually, carefully, and then for the first time
she perceived that she was getting among rocks, and that it was the
outlying boulders of these that had caused her to fall. Presently a
ridge of rocks loomed through the drifting snow, seen during a lull in
the gusts. This presented a welcome protection from the wind’s icy
blast, and uttering the glad cry of one suddenly rescued from what had
appeared almost certain death, the girl staggered forward.
But the hurricane, as if angered at losing its lawful prey, seemed to
rush upon her with greater force than ever. It almost dragged her away
in its powerful grasp. Aroused by the imminence of the danger, Kasba
made strenuous efforts to reach a projecting rock, which stood up
heroically to the furious tempest, offering its protection to the
distressed girl. With a cry of relief she sank under its shelter. She
was still in a most unenviable position, however, and was not slow to
realize it.
After resting some moments, Kasba applied herself to prayer. In a few
broken sentences she conveyed her thanks to God for His infinite mercy
in rescuing her from the drifting snow. Then feeling assured that she
had not been saved from the hurricane to perish miserably from cold and
hunger, she turned her thoughts to the means of effecting her further
escape.
Gazing around she tried to discover her whereabouts. A close scrutiny of
the rock that sheltered her proved it to be a well-known landmark, and
this sufficed to tell her that she was in a gully not far from the Fort.
With this comforting assurance she proceeded to keep herself as warm as
she might. Breaking some branches with much difficulty from a spruce
tree that grew near-by, she laid them at the bottom of a hole in the
rock. Then going out upon the plain she stood her snowshoes upright as a
sign of her close proximity in case the worst befel and search was made
for her body.
Returning to her haven of safety, Kasba drew off her hairy-coat, and,
tying a handkerchief over her head, crouched in the hollow, drawing the
coat over her in the manner of a blanket. Then she waited with a
fortitude worthy of the sterner sex for the end of the hurricane; for
she knew relief from the Fort was hardly possible till then.