Fresh snow covered the frozen river, and the sledge ran heavily. Fothergill labored in the traces, and his snowshoe loops galled his foot; Murray and Spence broke the trail in front. They had left the canoe in the brush, and the sledge carried their blankets and food. Fothergill thought it an awkward load.
The morning was dark, and the sky behind the timber on the bank was gray. The river curved and rocks and jack-pines cut the view, but as far as one could see, a row of faint blue marks led on. Murray, however, did not use much speed. He doubted if exhausting speed would pay, and he fixed a pace he thought the others could keep up.
Lafarge obviously went light, and the police hauled a load; but, in the snowy North, the man who sleeps warm and uses proper food goes farthest. Moreover, Mu
