"Because we were runnin' short of dog-feed, an' you can't let your dogs
die of hunger, for then you can't get anywhere. But the blizzard had
drifted everything an' was still driftin', so that the snow was hard in
some places and soft in others; the travelin' was almost impossible, an'
you couldn't see twenty yards ahead. Then while the blizzard had filled
the gullies made by the whirlwinds, the snow in them was not packed down
as hard as the rest of the surface, an' dogs an' sled an' Indian an'
myself would all go flounderin' into the drift, an' it would be a tough
pull to get the sled out again.--That was a hard trip.
"The worst of it came when, without a bit of warnin', without our even
knowin' where we were, the hard crust of the snow gave way beneath us,
an' the sled, the dogs, and myself fell headlong down a slope an' into a
stream of runnin' water, the sled upside down, of course."
"How about the Indian?" asked the boy.
"He saved himself from goin' into the water, an' it was a good thing
that he did, for he was able to help in pullin' us out. But, from one
point of view, the accident was a help, for it told the Indian just
where we were.
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