Notwithstanding this, she persevered. She walked till she was well assured that she had lost David in the drifting snow, then she turned, and made prodigious efforts to reach a place of shelter. By keeping the wind in her face, she felt that she was going in the right direction, but thick clouds of snow struck her at close intervals and prevented her from seeing a yard before her, while the force of the wind was such that it was almost impossible at times for her to stand upright against it.
To dream of reaching the Fort in such weather was simply madness, and the poor girl had no choice but to proceed at random with the slender hope of finding some shelter from the strength of the blizzard, and soon she felt that nothing short of a miracle could save her, and staggered forward with a prayer on her lips. But the thought of her poor old father’s terrible grief should she perish in the cold, forced her onward and kept her weary legs from sinking beneath her. With the heroism of a martyr the girl endeavored to do for his sake what, as she felt, she had neither the will nor the strength to accomplish for her own, and she stood for a moment in dull despair, worn out by cold, fatigue and hunger, for she had eaten nothing since their hasty breakfast early that morning. Nature called to her loudly to discontinue her arduous efforts and sink down upon the snow, but distracted though the girl was, she fully understood that should she succumb to the languor she was feeling, a little white mound would soon mark her last resting-place. Filial affection was strong within her, and with superhuman efforts she staggered forward. After half-an-hour’s desperate struggle with the hurricane—half an hour which to her appeared like a century—the girl stumbled and fell. She quickly recovered herself but had not proceeded many steps before she fell again. This time the fall well-nigh deprived her of the little energy now left her, and it was with great difficulty that she regained her feet.
As she endeavored to shake off the numbing effects of the intense cold, she looked around her, gradually, carefully, and then for the first time she perceived that she was getting among rocks, and that it was the outlying boulders of these that had caused her to fall. Presently a ridge of rocks loomed through the drifting snow, seen during a lull in the gusts. This presented a welcome protection from the wind’s icy blast, and uttering the glad cry of one suddenly rescued from what had appeared almost certain death, the girl staggered forward.
But the hurricane, as if angered at losing its lawful prey, seemed to rush upon her with greater force than ever. It almost dragged her away in its powerful grasp. Aroused by the imminence of the danger, Kasba made strenuous efforts to reach a projecting rock, which stood up heroically to the furious tempest, offering its protection to the distressed girl. With a cry of relief she sank under its shelter. She was still in a most unenviable position, however, and was not slow to realize it.
After resting some moments, Kasba applied herself to prayer. In a few broken sentences she conveyed her thanks to God for His infinite mercy in rescuing her from the drifting snow. Then feeling assured that she had not been saved from the hurricane to perish miserably from cold and hunger, she turned her thoughts to the means of effecting her further escape.
Gazing around she tried to discover her whereabouts. A close scrutiny of the rock that sheltered her proved it to be a well-known landmark, and this sufficed to tell her that she was in a gully not far from the Fort. With this comforting assurance she proceeded to keep herself as warm as she might. Breaking some branches with much difficulty from a spruce tree that grew near-by, she laid them at the bottom of a hole in the rock. Then going out upon the plain she stood her snowshoes upright as a sign of her close proximity in case the worst befel and search was made for her body.
Returning to her haven of safety, Kasba drew off her hairy-coat, and, tying a handkerchief over her head, crouched in the hollow, drawing the coat over her in the manner of a blanket. Then she waited with a fortitude worthy of the sterner sex for the end of the hurricane; for she knew relief from the Fort was hardly possible till then.
CHAPTER VII.
“THE PACKET” AT LAST.
On the morning of the day on which Kasba and David were lost in the blizzard, Roy Thursby stood on a high ridge of rocks at the back of the Fort, gazing through a telescope at a minute speck in the distance. Was it his imagination, or did the object move? He gazed eagerly at it until his sight became blurred, and he was forced to drop the glass and give his eyes a rest. However, after a few minutes spent in excitedly wiping the lens of the telescope, he again applied it to his eye. Yes, the object did move, but—was he sure? Again he gazed long and earnestly, his feelings undergoing curious changes as they wavered between certainty and doubt. Then the object of his attention suddenly made a slight detour which was unmistakable. Roy uttered a wild whoop, shut the telescope with a snap and went scrambling down the rocks with the enthusiasm of a delighted school-boy.
Long before he reached the Fort he fell to shouting, joyfully: