The following morning poor Jalap was so stiff and lame that his face was contorted with pain when he attempted to rise.
“Never mind,” he cried, cheerily, as he noted Phil’s anxious expression, “I’ll fetch it. Just give me a few minutes’ leeway.”
And, sure enough, in a few minutes he was on his feet rubbing his legs, stretching his arms, and twisting his body “to limber up the j’ints.” Although in a torment of pain, he soon declared himself ready for the day’s tramp, and they set forth. Ere they had gone half a mile, however, it was evident that he could walk no farther. The pain of the effort was too great even for his sturdy determination, and when he finally sank down with a groan, the boys helped him on the sledge, and attached themselves to its pulling-bar with long thongs of rawhide.
The two stalwart young fellows, together with three dogs, made a strong team, but the snow was so soft, and their load so heavy, that by noon they had not made more than ten miles. They had, however, reached the end of their second valley, and come upon a most extraordinary scene. As far as the eye could reach on either side stretched a vast plain of frozen whiteness. On its farther border, directly in front of them, but some ten miles away, rose a chain of mountains bisected by a deep, wide cut like a gateway.
“It must be an arm of the sea, frozen over and covered with snow,” said Phil.
“But,” objected Serge, “on this coast no such body of salt water stays frozen so late in the season; for we are well into April now, you know.”
“Then it is a great lake.”
“I never heard of any lake on this side of the mountains.”
“I don’t reckon it’s the sea; but salt water’s mighty nigh,” said Jalap Coombs, sniffing the air as eagerly as a hound on the scent of game.