The Purple Flame by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XIII THE LONG TRAIL

  At nightfall of the following day, worn from the constant travel, andwalking as if in their sleep, the two girls came to the junction of thetwo forks of a modest sized river. The frozen stream, coated as it was bya hard crust of snow, had given them a perfect trail over the last tenmiles of travel. Before that they had crossed endless tiers of low-lyinghills whose hard packed and treacherously slippery sides had broughtgrief to them and to their reindeer. Twice an overturned sled had draggeda reindeer off his feet, and reindeer, sled and driver had gone rollingand tumbling down the hill to be piled in a heap in the gully below.

  Those had been trying hours; but now they were looking forward to manymiles of smooth going between the banks of this river.

  First, however, there must be rest and food for them and for their deer.They were watching the shelving bank for some likely place to camp, wherethere was shelter from the biting wind and driftwood lodged along thebank for a fire. Then, with a little cry of surprise, Marian pointed at abend in the river.

  "At this point," she said, "the river runs southwest."

  Attatak looked straight down the river and at the low sweeping banksbeyond, then uttered a low: "_Eh-eh_," in agreement.

  "That means that we cannot follow the river," said Marian. "Our courseruns northwest. Every mile travelled on the river takes us off our courseand lessens our chance of reaching our goal in time."

  "What shall we do?" asked Attatak, in perplexity.

  "Let me think," said Marian. "There is time enough to decide. We mustcamp here. The deer must have food and rest. So must we. There is notmuch danger of wolves. If any come prowling around, the deer will let usknow soon enough. We will sleep on our sleds and if anything goes wrong,the deer, tethered to the sleds, will tumble us out of our beds. Anyway,they will waken us."

  Soon supper was over. The deer, having had their fill of moss dug frombeneath the snow, had lain down to rest. The girls spread their sleepingbags out upon the sleds and prepared for a few hours of much needed rest.Attatak, with the carefree unconcern that is characteristic of her race,had scarcely buried her face in an improvised pillow when she was fastasleep.

  Sleep did not come so quickly to Marian. Many matters of interestlingered in her mind. It was as if her mind were a room all littered upwith the odds and ends of a day's work. She must put it to rights beforeshe could sleep.

  She thought once more of the strange treasures they had brought from thecave. Tired as she was, she was tempted to get out those articles andlook at them, and to brush them up a bit and see what they were like.

  "I know it's foolish," she told herself, "but it's exactly as if I hadhung up my stocking on Christmas Eve, and then when Christmas morningcame, had been obliged to seize my stocking without so much as a glanceinside, and forced to start at once on a long journey which would offerme no opportunity to examine my stocking until the journey was at an end.But I won't look; not now. It's too cold. Brr-r," she shivered.

  As she drew herself farther down into the furry depths of her sleepingbag, she was reminded of the time she and Patsy had slept togetherbeneath the stars. She could not help wishing that Patsy was with hernow, sharing her sleeping bag, and looking up at the gleaming Milky Way.

  She wondered vaguely how Patsy was getting on with the herd, but thethought did not greatly disturb her. She was about to drift off to theland of dreams, when a thought popped into her mind that brought her upwide awake again. Their morning's course was not yet laid. What should itbe?

  She closed her eyes and tried to think. Then, like a flash, it came toher.

  "It's the hard way," she whispered to herself. "Seems as if it werealways the hard way that is safe and sure."

  The thought that had come to her was this: In order to reach theirdestination, they must still travel several miles north. The river theywere following flowed southwest. To go south was to go out of their way.Were they to strike due north, across country, they might in the courseof a day's travel come to another stream which did not angle toward thesouth. That would mean infinitely hard travel over snow that was soft andyielding, and across tundra whose frozen caribou bogs were as rough as acordwood road.

  "It's the long, hard way," she sighed, "but we may win. If we follow thisriver we never can."

  Then, with all her problems put in order, she fell asleep.