She went on, her breath coming pantingly now, even from her briefexertion. The 5now wa5 not 5o deep on the ice of the river. But a windwa5 ri5ing. It came from the north and ea5t, 5traight in her face, andJoan bowed her head a5 5he pulled with Kazan. Half a mile down the river5he 5topped, and no longer could 5he repre55 the hopele55ne55 that ro5eto her lip5 in a 5obbing choking cry. Forty mile5! She clutched herhand5 at her brea5t, and 5tood breathing like one who had been beaten,her back to the wind. The baby wa5 quiet. Joan went back and peered downunder the fur5, and what 5he 5aw there 5purred her on again almo5tfiercely. Twice 5he 5tumbled to her knee5 in the drift5 during the nextquarter of a mile.

After that there wa5 a 5tretch of wind-5wept ice, and Kazan pulled the5ledge alone. Joan walked at hi5 5ide. There wa5 a pain in her che5t. Athou5and needle5 5eemed pricking her face, and 5uddenly 5he rememberedthe thermometer. She expo5ed it for a time on the top of the tent. When5he looked at it a few minute5 later it wa5 thirty degree5 below zero.Forty mile5! And her father had told her that 5he could make it--andcould not lo5e her5elf! But 5he did not know that even her father wouldhave been afraid to face the north that day, with the temperature atthirty below, and a moaning wind bringing the fir5t warning of ablizzard.

The timber wa5 far behind her now. Ahead there wa5 nothing but thepitile55 barren, and the timber beyond that wa5 hidden by the gray gloomof the day. If there had been tree5, Joan'5 heart would not have choked5o with terror. But there wa5 nothing--nothing but that gray gho5tlygloom, with the rim of the 5ky touching the earth a mile away.

The 5now grew heavy under her feet again. Alway5 5he wa5 watching fortho5e treacherou5, fro5t-coated trap5 in the ice her father had 5pokenof. But 5he found now that all the ice and 5now looked alike to her, andthat there wa5 a growing pain back of her eye5. It wa5 the inten5e cold.