As Patsy stood there gazing at this splendid creature, she slowly realized that the Arctic sun had flamed down below the far horizon and long shadows raced out of the West. A full orbed moon stood just atop the trees that lined the eastern rim of hills. Turning reluctantly to leave, her eyes caught sight of a dark spot in the snow. She bent over to examine it, and a moment later straightened up with a startled exclamation.
“Blood! It is a trail of blood. I wonder which way it goes?”
Unable to answer this question, she decided to circle until she could find some sign that would tell her whether or not she was back-tracking. Satisfied at last of the direction, she pushed on, and there in the eerie moonlight, through the ghostly silence of an Arctic night, she silently followed the trail of blood.
Suddenly she stopped and stood still. Just before her was a large discoloration of the snow. And, though the snow was so wind packed that she walked on it without snowshoes, her keen eyes detected spots where it had been broken and scratched by some hard, heavy object.
Dropping on her knees, she began examining every detail of the markings. When she arose she spoke with a quiet tone of conviction:
“This is the track of a man. He has killed one of our deer and had been carrying it on his shoulder. Blood dropped from the still warm carcass. That explains the trail of blood. The load has become too heavy for him. At this spot he has laid his burden down. In places the antlers have scratched the snow. After a time he has gone on. But which way did he go?”
Once more she bent over. On the hard packed snow, the sole of a skin boot makes no tracks. After a moment’s study she again straightened up.
“There’s a long scratch, as if he had dragged the carcass to his shoulder as he started on, and an antler had dragged for two or three feet. That would indicate that he went the way I have been going. Question is, shall I go farther, or shall I go for the herders with their rifles?” She decided to go on.
The blood spots grew less and less as she advanced. She was beginning to despair of being able to follow much farther, when, with a startled gesture, she came to a sudden halt.
“The purple flame!” she said in an awed whisper.