As a matter of fact, the
snow had covered their footprints completely.
The wind was now rising again, and it blew directly into their faces.
Alarmed more than ever, on this account, they pushed oh until poor Sam
was almost winded.
"I--I can't go on so fast, no use in trying!" he panted. "I feel ready
to drop!"
"I'm fagged out myself," responded Tom. "But, Sam, we can't afford to
rest here."
"I know that, but I've got to get my wind back somehow. The wind seems
to be awfully strong."
They rested for several minutes, and then pushed on again, Tom dragging
the sled alone. It was a bitter journey, and both would have given a
good deal to have been with Dick and the guide once more.
"We missed it when we didn't keep up with them in the first place," was
Tom's comment. "However, there's no use in crying over spilt milk, as
the saying goes. We must make the best of it."
"There isn't any best," grumbled Sam. "It's all worst!" And then Tom
laughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
At last they gained the spot where they had first struck the brook, and
here they halted again.
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