South from Hudson Bay: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

by Ethel C. Brill

  XIX BLIZZARD

  As the sun rose higher the wind began to blow. The loose surface snow wasset in motion, crawling and creeping up the frozen waves. The wind gainedin strength, and everywhere the plain seemed to be moving. The glitterwas less trying to the eyes now, for the sun had grown hazy. Louisglanced up at the sky, shouted to his dogs, sent his long whip flyingthrough the air and flicked the leader with the lash.

  "A storm comes," he called to his companions. "We must make haste andreach the river where it bends to the north."

  With the increase of speed, Walter, less experienced in this sort oftravel than his comrades, found keeping up difficult. Neither with norwithout snowshoes was he the equal of the swift, tireless Louis. Neil toowas his superior on snowshoes, though on bare ground Walter could outrunthe Scotch boy. In spite of all his efforts he fell behind. Seeing hisdifficulty, Louis suggested that he ride for a while, standing on therear of the sled. Glad though he was of a few minutes' rest, Walter didnot ride long. The northwest wind soon chilled him through, and he wasforced to run to warm himself.

  The dogs' pace was slackening. The course was due west, and the wind,striking them at an angle, slowed their progress. The surface snow,caught up by the gale, drove against and swirled about beasts and boys.

  Walter plodded after the others, head lowered, capote hood pulled downover his cap to his eyes. Suddenly he realized that the fine, driving,blinding stuff that struck against him with such force and stung whereverit touched his bare skin, was not merely the fallen snow whipped forwardby the wind. Snow was falling,--or being lashed down upon him,--fromabove. The sunshine was gone. The distance, the sky were wholly blottedout. He and his comrades were in the grip of a hard northwest storm, agenuine prairie blizzard.

  Louis was having his hands full trying to keep a straight course. Alllandmarks blotted out, the wind was the only guide, and the dogs werecontinually edging away from the bitter blast. The French boy, of anaturally kind disposition and brought up by a good mother and a fatherwho had no Indian blood, was far more humane than most dog drivers. Henever abused his beasts, and he punished them only when discipline wasnecessary. Now, however, he was compelled to use the whip vigorously tokeep them from swinging far to the south. Shouts and commands, drownedout by the roaring of the wind, were of little avail.

  Dogs and boys struggled on in the driving wind, the bitter cold, and theblinding snow; and the struggle saved them from freezing. The snow wascoming so thick and fast they could see only a few feet in any direction.Following behind the toboggan, Walter could not make out Askime or thesecond dog. The third beast, next to the sled, was but a dim shape. Louisand Neil took turns going ahead of Askime. While one was breaking trail,the other wielded the whip and tried to keep the dogs in the track.

  Plodding on through a white, swirling world, fighting against wind andsnow, his whole mind intent on keeping the shadowy, moving forms insight, his feet feeling like clogs of wood, his ankles and calves achingwith the unaccustomed exercise of snowshoeing, Walter lost all count oftime. When the sled stopped, he kept on blindly and nearly fell over it.

  Louis seized him by the arm and shouted, "We can go no farther. We can'tkeep a straight course. We must camp here."

  Walter tried to look about him. He could see nothing but wind-drivensnow, not a tree or hill or other sign of shelter. "We'll freeze todeath," he protested huskily.

  "No, no, we will be safe and warm. Kick off your snowshoes and help Neildig."

  Walter obeyed, slipping his feet from the thongs. Following the Scotchlad's example, he seized one of the shoes and, using it as a shovel,began to scoop up snow. Louis unharnessed the dogs and unlaced the hidecover, almost freezing his fingers in the process. Hastily dumping thesupplies in a heap, he turned the sled on its side, and joined thediggers. In the lee of the toboggan, which kept the drifting snow fromfilling the hole as fast as they dug it out, the three boys worked fortheir lives. Down through the dry, loose surface, through the firm packedlayer below, to the hard frozen ground, they dug. Scooping out the snow,they tried to make a wall, though the wind swept it away almost asrapidly as they piled it up.

  Working steadily at their best speed, they succeeded at last inexcavating a hole large enough to hold all three. The heap of supplieshad been converted into a mound, the toboggan into a drift. Burrowinginto the mound, the boys pulled out robes and blankets, hastily spreadthem at the bottom of the hole, and threw in their supplies. A long pole,that Louis had added to the load just before starting, was laid acrossthe hole, one end resting on the toboggan. Clinging to the hide cover tokeep it from blowing away, they drew it over the pole and weighted downthe corners with a keg of powder, a sack of bullets, and the steel traps.After the edges of this tent roof had been banked with snow to hold itmore securely, the three lads crawled under it.

  When he had recovered his breath, Walter asked, "What has become of thedogs?" He had not noticed them since Louis took off their harness.

  "Do you think they are lost then?" said their master with a grin. "No,they have buried themselves in the snow to keep warm. They have earned ameal though, and they shall have it." Seizing three of the frozen fish hehad brought for the dogs, Louis crawled out into the storm to find andfeed them.

  He was back in a few minutes, huddling among the robes and blankets. Thehole was none too large. When they sat up straight, their heads nearlytouched the hide cover, and all three could not lie down at one time. Butin the snug burrow, with the snow-banked sled to windward, they did notfeel the wind at all.

  Knowing that they might have to camp where there was no fuel to be found,Louis had included a few small sticks among their supplies. Shaving oneof the sticks into splinters, he struck his flint and steel and kindled atiny fire on the bare ground in the center of the shelter. In the coverabove he cut a little hole for the smoke to escape. Small though theblaze was, it sent out heat enough to thaw the boys' stiff fingers andfeet, and its light was cheering in the dark burrow. Louis melted snow,made tea, and thawed out a chunk of frozen pemmican.

  By the time the meal was over, Walter found himself surprisingly warm andcomfortable. He had not supposed he could be so comfortable in such acrude shelter. He was drowsy and wanted to take a nap, but one feartroubled him and made him reluctant to yield to his sleepiness.

  "If the snow covers us over, won't we smother in this hole?" he asked.

  Louis shook his head. "There is no danger, I think. Often men overtakenby storm camp in the snow like this, and I never heard of anyone beingsmothered. There is not much snow on our tent now. It banks up againstthe toboggan and blows off our roof. But even if we are buried in adrift, we can still breathe I think, and we won't freeze while we havefood and a little wood to make hot tea."

  "And the dogs?"

  "They will sleep warm, covered by the snow."

  Reassured, Walter settled himself as comfortably as he could manage inthe cramped quarters, and went to sleep. When he woke, he found theothers both sleeping, Neil curled up in his thick plaid, and Louis in asitting position with his head down on his knees. The fire had gone out,and in spite of the blanket in which he was wrapped and the buffalo robespread over Neil and himself, Walter felt chilled through. It was toodark in the hole for him to see the figures on his watch. Trying to rubsome warmth into his cramped legs, he roused Louis.

  "How long have I been asleep? Is it night?"

  "I think not yet," replied Louis, answering the second question. "Itgrows colder. I will make a fire and we will have some hot tea."

  To clear a space for the fire, Louis unceremoniously rolled Neil over andwoke him. The Scotch lad growled and grumbled at being disturbed, but theprospect of hot tea restored his good humor. Looking at his watch in thelight of the tiny blaze, Walter discovered that it was not yet fiveo'clock. The storm still raged over them.

  "Do we get something to eat with this?" Neil asked, as Louis poured thesteaming tea into his tin cup.

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p; "Not now. We have only a little wood. We must not keep the fire burning.Warm your fingers and your feet well before it burns out."

  Louis was the leader of the expedition, and Neil did not question hisdecree. The three drew their blankets and robes closer about them, andmade the most of the hot drink and the tiny fire. They were not sleepynow, so they talked, huddled together for warmth.

  After a time conversation lagged. They grew silent, then drowsy. Walterdropped off, and woke to find Louis kindling another little blaze. It wasafter nine, and the three made a scanty meal of thawed pemmican beforegoing to sleep again.

  During the night Walter woke several times to rub his chilly body andlimbs and snuggle closer to his companions. A buffalo robe and a blanketlay between him and the ground, his capote hood was drawn over his furcap, he was wrapped in a blanket, and with his companions, covered withanother robe, yet in his dreams he was conscious of the cold. He did notthink of complaining. He had slept cold many a night since leaving FortYork. In the midst of this howling blizzard, he was thankful to be ascomfortable as he was and in no immediate danger of freezing.