"A red spot—that's all."
"Wonder it didn't make a dent an inch deep."
Hackett accepted Bob's hand, struggled to his feet, and leaned heavily against a tree.
"I'm awfully sorry, Hacky," said Bob, compassionately.
"I'll have to take a few minutes' rest. Where are the other fellows, Somers?"
"They can't be far ahead."
"Better be going now, or we may get separated," said Hackett, presently. "Can you see the tracks still?"
"Yes, but they are very faint."
Hackett rubbed his forehead. "I'm getting all right, now; sail ahead."
"Bother the snow," said Bob. "It's so thick a fellow can't see more than a few feet."