“How does he do it?” whispered Joe.
“Got me,” Curlie whispered back. “He surely couldn’t hold it.”
“Say not! Took both of us to pull it up and we had the advantage of the blocks.”
“All right,” came from above as a block glided back to them, “let’s have the next one.”
When the three sleds were upon the bench and the dogs had been induced to follow, the boys climbed up, eager to discover the miner’s secret.
“Oh!” exclaimed Joe. “Only a stake in the ice. Who could have left it?”
He was staring at a stout stake which stuck ten inches above the surface of the ice.
“Nobody. I put it there,” Jennings smiled. Then, seeing their look of incredulity, he went on, “You’ll remember I left the cabin last night with a package under my arm. Also, you will remember that I melted a bucket of snow water while supper was cooking. In the bundle there was nothing but stout stakes; a dozen of them. You’ll find them up the glacier, all frozen in. All I had to do was to chip a hole in the ice, then thrust in a stake. After that I filled the hole full of snow, then poured water over it. The snow and water froze together almost instantly and here we have our stakes. We’ll have lunch on the other side of the ridge and to-night we will sleep in a spruce forest. We shall then have gained a full two days on our journey. With the trail in its present condition we could not have made the journey over the roundabout valley in less than four days and even then we would have worn down our dogs.”
When, a few hours later, all the miner’s prophecies had been fulfilled and the boys were preparing the second night’s camp, they were enthusiastic in their praise of their new-found friend.
“To-night,” smiled the miner, “we will sleep on a bed of Arctic feathers.”