places, where the water dashed against the steep-sided bluffs,
rim-ice was unable to form. They turned and twisted, now
crossing the river, now coming back again, sometimes making half
a dozen attempts before they found a way over a particularly bad
stretch. It was slow work. The ice-bridges had to be tested,
and either Daylight or Kama went in advance, snowshoes on their
feet, and long poles carried crosswise in their hands. Thus, if
they broke through, they could cling to the pole that bridged the
hole made by their bodies. Several such accidents were the share
of each. At fifty below zero, a man wet to the waist cannot
travel without freezing; so each ducking meant delay. As soon as
rescued, the wet man ran up and down to keep up his circulation,
while his dry companion built a fire. Thus protected, a change
of garments could be made and the wet ones dried against the next
misadventure.

To make matters worse, this dangerous river travel could not be
done in the dark, and their working day was reduced to the six
hours of twilight. Every moment was precious, and they strove
never to lose one. Thus, before the first hint of the coming of
gray day, camp was broken, sled loaded, dogs harnessed, and the
two men crouched waiting over the fire. Nor did they make the
midday halt to eat. As it was, they were running far behind
their schedule, each day eating into the margin they had run up.
There were days when they made fifteen miles, and days when they
made a dozen. And there was one bad stretch where in two days
they covered nine miles, being compelled to turn their backs
three times on the river and to portage sled and outfit over the
mountains.