"The sneak!" denounced Louise, feeling almost hot for a second in her anger. "You're right, Linda—I'm sure you are! But really, it was intended murder!"
"Probable murder—if we couldn't make a landing or jump. But she thinks we are so inexperienced that we couldn't do either.... Yes, I really believe Miss Hulbert thinks we're dead now!"
"And won't she get fooled!" exulted Louise. "Once we get back to civilization, we'll do plenty to her!"
"If we get back to civilization," said Linda, with the first note of despair creeping into her voice. Their feet were so cold, they began to ache dreadfully, and the woods were as dense and as hopeless as when they first began to walk. They slackened their pace, until Louise's feet fairly seemed to drag. She stopped abruptly.
"I just can't go on, Linda," she sighed. "My feet hurt so terribly!"
"I know," answered her companion, sympathetically. "We might take off our shoes and rub them with snow. But if we once stop, we'll never be able to start again—and then we'll surely freeze."
It was a gruesome alternative; they looked at each other in dismay.
"Let's go very slowly, and hang on to each other," urged Linda. "The night can't last forever, and the sunshine will bring warmth."
"It's the longest night I ever knew," said Louise, drearily. "But morning will be worse, because we'll be that much hungrier."
Linda pressed her hand; there was no use trying to cheer the other girl with hopes, that she was in no mood to believe. So they went on doggedly.