“We must be off in a few minutes,” he announced.
Crestwick raised himself with one hand and blinked.
“I don’t know whether I can manage it.”
“Then,” responded Lisle, hiding his compassion, “you’ll have to decide which of two things you’ll do—you can stay here until I come back, or you can take the trail with me. I must go on.”
Crestwick shrank from the painful choice. He did not think that he could walk; but to prolong the experience of the previous night for another twenty-four hours or more seemed even worse. He ate his breakfast; and then with a tense effort he got upon his feet and slipped the straps of the pack over his shoulders. Moving unevenly, he set off, lest he should yield to his weariness and sink down again.
“Come on!” he called back to Lisle.
He sometimes wondered afterward how he endured throughout the day. He was half dazed; he blundered forward, numbed in body, with his mind too dulled to be conscious of more than a despairing dejection. As he scarcely expected to reach the post, it did not matter how soon he fell. Yet, by instinctive effort stronger than conscious volition, the struggle for life continued; and Lisle’s keen anxiety concerning him diminished as the hours went by. Every step brought them nearer warmth and shelter, and made it more possible that help could be obtained if the lad collapsed. That was the only course that would be available because they were now crossing a lofty wind-swept elevation bare of timber.
It was afternoon when they entered a long valley, and Lisle, grasping Crestwick’s arm, partly supported him as they stumbled down the steep descent. Stunted trees straggled up toward them as they pushed on down the hollow, and Lisle surmised that the journey was almost over. That was fortunate, for he had some trouble in keeping his companion upon his feet. At length a faint howl rose from ahead and Lisle stopped and listened intently. The sound was repeated more plainly, and was followed by a confused snarling, the clamor of quarreling dogs.
“Malamutes; the freighters can’t have started yet with their sledges,” he said to Crestwick, who was holding on to him. “I don’t think they can be more than half a mile off.”
“I’ll manage that somehow,” replied the lad.