Corporal McCarthy was not long in locating the trail made by Fred Mistak’s dog team. They had taken virtually the same path up the wall of the glacier that the fugitive had taken, and so were not far off the trail.
Soon they were hurrying onward, carefully avoiding the deep, dangerous chasms in the ice whenever possible, and when necessary, bridging the narrow cracks with their sledges.
“I’d hate to fall into one of those cracks,” Dick said in a low voice to Sandy.
“Me, too,” Sandy agreed. “I wonder what’s at the bottom of them.”
“I’ve heard there are rivers of running water under these glaciers,” replied Dick, “and that scientists have found the fossils of ancient animals in the huge caves which the water forms.”
“Gee, just think! The land under this glacier must be just like it was a hundred years ago. Makes me feel creepy to think of those giant reptiles that used to wander around right under where we’re walking.”
Dick was about to reply when Corporal McCarthy stopped the teams at the edge of an expanse of ice that had been swept clear of soft snow by water and wind.
The boys quickly saw that Mistak’s trail vanished here, as if it had gone up in smoke. The ice was as hard as flint, and sledge, dogs, and men had passed over it without leaving a mark.
“Toma, you stay with the dog team,” ordered Corporal McCarthy, “the rest of us will scatter out and circle this expanse of smooth ice. We can pick up Mistak’s trail where he strikes soft snow or brittle ice.”
The plan was carried out but after an hour’s fruitless search the Corporal called them all back to the sledge.