Did they have faith in his judgment? How could they doubt it? Yet Florence thought of their meager food supply and shuddered.
“Jodie and I will go out to look for game,” said Tom Kennedy.
“Sure. We’ll have some great luck,” Jodie agreed.
“I’ll set up camp and cut some wood.” Florence was no weakling. She could play a man’s part.
As for At-a-tak, she wandered away in search of snowshoe rabbits’ tracks. More than once her cunningly set snares had provided their pot with a delicious stew.
It was after Florence had set up camp and while the others were still away that she began hearing puzzling sounds. Coming from the distance, they sounded like the crackle of a wood fire. But there was no fire.
“What is it?” she asked of the white collie, the “Phantom Leader,” who lay on the snow close beside her. Well fed and cared for now, the dog had regained his strength. He had become a prime favorite with all. But oh! how he could eat! And in the harness he was just no good at all. Neither his nature nor his training fitted him for this.
“Come on, Phantom,” the girl murmured. “Earn your dinner. Tell me what those sounds are.”
For answer the dog rose to his haunches and growled. His sharp nose pointed straight down the trail over which they had come. Each moment the faint clatter increased in volume. At the same time a burst of wind swept up the valley and a swirl of fine particles cut at the girl’s cheek.
“Oh, dear! Another storm!” Still she waited and listened.