But I was certainly bothered by the tracks I had seen, and May, noticing my preoccupied aspect, rallied me thereon. This made me put on a brighter look, and in my mind I determined to say nothing, to take all due precautions, and to put my trust for the rest in the good God who had protected us hitherto.
When we started on—gaily on May's part, trustfully on mine—we soon came to this track. Patch instantly noticed it, and would not move on. He whined, whimpered, and nosed it; then looking up and down the path, he whined again.
May was attracted by this proceeding. I endeavoured to pull ahead, saying nothing, merely calling to the dog to come on; but she, perceiving a trail of some kind, hesitated too. "Is it a bear path?" she inquired.
"Bears hibernate, you know," was my reply; "they don't make paths like that in winter."
"It must be caribou, or moose—perhaps there are cattle here, or, maybe, it's the track of people!"
"People here!—not likely." I shook my head as I spoke. "Who would be here, do you think?—Indians? Well, that might be, but I fancy they don't come about here at this season."
"Let us travel along it," said she; "it looks to be an easy way. Whatever made it, appears to have chosen the smoothest route," for we could perceive the trail for some distance winding amongst the scattered timber along the margin of the stream.
Now, my idea was to get as far away from those suspicious footmarks as possible. I wished to take to the middle of the creek, and we did so by-and-by, after I had assured my companion that I considered the level ice out there promised a better road. But she was not very easily persuaded. I believe she had the idea in her head that this path was made by human beings, and she had, naturally, a strong desire for the fellowship of her kind. As for me, I had no belief in anything but bears, and as for getting amongst people again—I wanted to, simply because it was necessary if we were ever to get home; yet I rather disliked the idea, for I knew well it would be the ending of her sweet companionship.
I cannot quite truly describe how I felt just then. Certainly there was an immense amount of suffering in our life, but I thought little of my share in it, for was I not suffering with May? and I did not look forward with entire pleasure to its ending. Only, for her dear sake, only to put an end to her discomfort, her misery, I knew what my duty was, and did it.
We hauled our load out into the wide white lane and travelled down towards Dawson. And as we moved slowly, laboriously onwards, I rarely took my eyes from where I knew that mysterious trail was winding through the timber.