life to save others.

But if the wires had come down in the storm Kusiak would not know
they had not got through to Smith's Crossing. Swiftwater Pete spoke
cheerfully about mushing to the roadhouse. But Sheba knew the snow
would not bear the horses. They would have to walk, and it was not at
all certain that Mrs. Olson could do so long a walk with the thermometer
at forty or fifty below zero.

From a little knoll Sheba looked down upon the top of the stage three
hundred yards below her, and while she stood there the promise of the
new day was blazoned on the sky. It came with amazing beauty of green
and primrose and amethyst, while the stars flickered out and the heavens
took on the blue of sunrise. In a crotch between two peaks a faint
golden glow heralded the sun. A circle of lovely rose-pink flushed the
horizon.

Sheba had this much of the poet in her, that every sunrise was still a
miracle. She drew a deep, slow breath of adoration and turned away. As
she did so her eyes dilated and her body grew rigid.

Across the snow waste a man was coming. He was moving toward the cabin
and must cross the trench close to her. The heart of the girl stopped,
then beat wildly to make up the lost stroke. He had come through the
blizzard to save her.

At that very instant, as if the stage had been set for it, the wonderful
Alaska sun pushed up into the crotch of the peaks and poured its radiance
over the Arctic waste. The pink glow swept in a tide of delicate color
over the snow and transmuted it to millions of sparkling diamonds. The
Great Magician's wand had recreated the world instantaneously.

CHAPTER XXVI

HARD MUSHING

Elliot and Holt left Kusiak in a spume of whirling, blinding snow. They
traveled light, not more than forty pounds to the dog, for they wanted
to make speed. It was not cold for Alaska. They packed their fur coats
on the sled and wore waterproof parkas. On their hands were mittens
of moosehide with duffel lining, on their feet mukluks above "German"
socks. Holt had been a sour-dough miner too long to let his partner
perspire from overmuch clothing. He knew the danger of pneumonia from
a sudden cooling of the heat of the body.

Old Gideon took seven of his dogs, driving them two abreast. Six were
huskies, rangy, muscular animals with thick, dense coats. They were in
the best of spirits and carried their tails erect like their Malemute
leader. Butch, though a Malemute, had a strong strain of coll