XII
ALONE IN THE STORM-SWEPT FOREST
As Andy ran he looked eagerly for signs of David. Snow had fallenduring the preceding week, and fresh tracks would have been easilydistinguishable. The accumulation of a single night's rime would havesufficed for that. Therefore David could not have passed this waywithout leaving a boldly marked trail upon the snow, and in attendingto the traps this was indeed the only route he could have taken.
In one of the traps a mile from the spruce grove was a handsome crossfox. Andy paused to kill it, and put it out of misery, then hurriedon. Under ordinary circumstances he would have been elated at thecapture of the fox, for it bore a valuable pelt. Now he scarcely gaveit a thought, so great was his anxiety for David's safety. In anothertrap was a dead rabbit, but he passed it without stopping.
Andy had followed the trail for upwards of three miles when, roundinga clump of willow brush he came suddenly upon David's snowshoe tracks.An examination disclosed the fact that David had come to this pointand then turned about and retraced his steps toward the tilt. This waspeculiar, and Andy was perplexed, but a hundred yards farther on camethe explanation, when he discovered the tracks of a band of cariboucrossing the trail at right angles and leading in a northerlydirection, with David's tracks following them. The discovery lifted aload of anxiety from Andy's heart. David was hunting caribou, and nodoubt safe enough. There was no further cause for worry.
An examination of the trail disclosed the fact that there were sevencaribou in the band. They had passed this way since early morning, forno rime had accumulated upon the tracks. David, upon encountering themhad doubtless hurried on to summon Andy, but upon reconsideration hadturned about to follow the caribou at once, rather than chance theirescape through the delay that this would occasion. He had doubtlesshoped to find them feeding near by. Indeed they could not have beenfar in advance of David.
With the relief of his anxiety for David's safety, Andy felt keenlydisappointed, if not resentful, that he had not been permitted to joinDavid in the caribou hunt. This was an experience to which he hadlooked forward. It had been agreed that if signs of caribou werediscovered they should hunt them together, and in his disappointmentAndy felt quite sure that an hour's delay would not have made muchdifference in the probabilities of success.
"Anyhow," said he after a few minute's indecision, "I'll follow. IfDavy's killed un he'll need me to help he, and if they've gone toofar and he hasn't killed un, I'll meet he comin' back."
The trail made by David and the caribou led Andy in a winding courseover the marsh for a distance of nearly two miles, and then plungedinto the forest. The rising wind was shifting the snow in little riftsover the marsh, and before Andy entered the forest the first flakes ofthe threatened storm began to fall.
Under the shelter of the trees the snow was light and soft. Because ofthis traveling became more difficult, and Andy was forced to reducehis trot to a fast walk. For a time the trail continued to lead almostdue north. Then it took a turn to the westward. At the point of theturn the caribou had stopped and circled about, and in taking theirnew course had traveled more rapidly. Something had evidently arousedtheir suspicions of lurking danger. The gait at which they hadtraveled, however, indicated that they were not yet thoroughlyfrightened, or else were uncertain of the direction in which thesuspected danger lay.
"They got a smell of something that startled un," observed Andy, "and'tweren't Davy. Th' wind were wrong for that. They never could havesmelled he with th' wind this way."
Snow was now falling heavily, but the trail was still plain enough. Ahalf mile farther on the caribou tracks made another sharp turn, thistime to the southward, turning about toward the marsh. There was nodoubt now that they had been frightened. Their trail evidenced thathere they had broken into a run.
"Whatever it were that scared un," said Andy, "it scared un bad here,and they've gone where Davy could never catch up with un."
Just beyond the place where the caribou had made the last turn,another trail came in from the north. Andy examined it carefully, andthough the rapidly accumulating snow had now nearly hidden thedistinguishing marks, he had no difficulty in recognizing the newtrail as one made by wolves.
"That's it!" he exclaimed. "'Twere wolves scared un! They didn't getth' scent rightly back there, but here they got un, and I hopesthey'll get away safe!"
A further examination disclosed the fact that David had stopped, too,and examined the tracks. He had doubtless concluded that continuedpursuit of the caribou was useless, for his tracks, now nearly coveredby the fresh snow, turned toward the marsh in a direction that wouldlead him back by a short cut to the point in the fur trail where hehad left it to follow the caribou.
"He's gone back to finish th' last end of th' trail," said Andy."He'll be fearin' something has happened t' me when he don't find meat th' spruce trees. I'll have t' hurry."
David's tracks were becoming fainter and fainter with every step, andAndy had not gone far when the last trace of them was lost. He knewthe general direction, however, that David would take, and was notgreatly concerned or alarmed until he suddenly realized that darknesswas settling. Until now he had lost all count of passing time.
He had also been too deeply engrossed in the caribou trail, and inovertaking David, to give consideration to the storm. Now, with therealization that night was falling, he also awoke to the fact that thewind had risen into a gale, and that with every moment the storm wasgathering new strength. He could hear it roaring and lashing the treetops overhead. A veritable Arctic blizzard was at hand.
In the cover of the thick spruce forest Andy was well protected fromthe wind, though even here snow fell so thickly that he could see buta few feet in any direction.
By the short cut Andy soon reached the edge of the timber, where treesgave way to the wide open space of the marsh. Here he was met by asmothering cloud of snow, and a blast of wind that carried him fromhis feet. He rose and tried again to face it, but was forced to turnabout and seek the shelter of the trees.
The wind came over the marsh, now in short, petulant gusts, now inlong, angry roars, sweeping before it swirling clouds of snow so densethat no living creature could stand before it. The storm wasterrifying in its fury.
For a moment Andy was dazed and overcome by his encounter. Then camerealization of his peril. To reach the tilt he must either cross themarsh or make a wide detour to the westward through the forest. Theformer was not possible, and if he attempted to make the detourdarkness would certainly overtake him before he could attain half thedistance. Impeded by the thick falling snow, any attempt to travelafter night would certainly lead to disaster. He would probably losehis direction, and be overcome by exhaustion and the bitter,penetrating cold.
What was he to do? He was without other protection than the clothes hewore. There was no shelter nearer than the tilt. He had no food. Hehad eaten nothing since the early breakfast in the tilt, and hishealthy young appetite was crying for satisfaction.
Andy was suddenly seized by panic, and he began to run, in a wild andfrenzied hope that he might reach the tilt before darkness closed uponthe wilderness. But he quickly became entangled in low hangingbranches, and, sent sprawling in the snow, was brought to a suddenhalt.
The shock returned him again to sane reasoning. Taking shelter underthe thick overhanging limbs of a spruce tree, he stopped to think andplan. He could not run, and unless he ran he could not reach the tiltthat night. He was marooned in the forest, that was plain. There wasno course but to make the best of it until morning. It was also plainthat he would perish with the cold unless he could devise some meansof protection. The moment he ceased his exertions he felt a deadlynumbness stealing over him.
"I must do something before dark, and I must have plenty o' grit," hepresently said. "I must keep a stout heart like a man. Pop saysthere's no fix so bad a man can't find his way out of un if he useshis head and does his best, and prays th' Lard to help he."
And so Andy, in simple words and brie
fly, said a little prayer, andthen he used his head and did his best to make the prayer come true.