question eagerly every unwonted movement of the man as if expecting him
to go into camp or to seek shelter somewhere and build a fire. The dog
had learned fire, and it wanted fire, or else to burrow under the snow
and cuddle its warmth away from the air.

The frozen moisture of its breathing had settled on its fur in a fine
powder of frost, and especially were its jowls, muzzle, and eyelashes
whitened by its crystalled breath. The man's red beard and moustache
were likewise frosted, but more solidly, the deposit taking the form of
ice and increasing with every warm, moist breath he exhaled. Also, the
man was chewing tobacco, and the muzzle of ice held his lips so rigidly
that he was unable to clear his chin when he expelled the juice. The
result was that a crystal beard of the colour and solidity of amber was
increasing its length on his chin. If he fell down it would shatter
itself, like glass, into brittle fragments. But he did not mind the
appendage. It was the penalty all tobacco-chewers paid in that country,
and he had been out before in two cold snaps. They had not been so cold
as this, he knew, but by the spirit thermometer at Sixty Mile he knew
they had been registered at fifty below and at fifty-five.

He held on through the level stretch of woods for several miles, crossed
a wide flat of nigger-heads, and dropped down a bank to the frozen bed of
a small stream. This was Henderson Creek, and he knew he was ten miles
from the forks. He looked at his watch. It was ten o'clock. He was
making four miles an hour, and he calculated that he would arrive at the
forks at half-past twelve. He decided to celebrate that event by eating
his lunch there.

The dog dropped in again at his heels, with a tail drooping
discouragement, as the man swung along the creek-bed. The furrow of the