Flora hung her head as if in shame, but whenever the man-hunter's back was turned she winked at the captive and blew him a kiss.
Jim made no protest when Homer told him to sit on the sled. The day was bright, without wind, but the going was heavy. Homer pulled mightily, while Flora beat a trail in front. They rested often; and Homer turned frequently and damned the passenger. By the time they had gone four miles, Homer's wind and temper were both demoralized. He dropped the rope, slipped his feet from his webs and went back and kicked Jim off the sled. Jim lay helpless and half smothered in the deep snow.
"Crawl, durn ye!" cried Homer.
The girl came back on the jump, raised Jim to a sitting position, and flashed green fire at Homer.
"How can he crawl when he's tied hand and foot?" she asked.
"I dassent risk lettin' him loose, but we'd sure get along quicker if he could crawl a piece now an' agin," replied Homer.
"Untie me, and I give you my word I won't hurt you and I'll crawl part of the way," promised Jim.
Homer agreed to this and the girl loosed the thongs. Jim crawled behind the sled for a distance of several hundred yards, then grabbed the sled and pulled himself onto it. After traveling at his ease for half a mile, he rolled off and crawled again.
Jim was tied again before camp was made that night, and the night passed uneventfully. Homer, who had been the first to sleep, was the first to wake. He was in a bad humor, despite the fact that his rival was in his power and would soon be in the grasp of the law. He built up the fire. Then he went over to his captive and kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could without hurting his soft-shod toes.
Again they traveled glenward, with Flora and the dogs leading, Homer hauling the sled and Jim sometimes on and sometimes off the sled. The hauls were long and the crawls were short, but they went forward at a fair pace.