t is
what it became increasingly impossible for them to do.

Apparently Ky was the worse off. He didn't seem to know what was going
on. Sally noticed that his hat had gone and thought his head was
freezing, so without hesitation he covered it with his own warm
nor'wester. Ky lay mostly on the komatik now, and it took all Sally's
strength and such little aid as Patsy could give to enable the dogs to
haul up the Frenchman's Leap, usually nearly perpendicular, but now
fortunately sloped off by the heavy drift. Each man had to take a
trace ahead and haul exactly like two big dogs, thus strengthening the
team. At last the komatik topped the brow and was once more coming
along after them. But Patsy was so played out that Sally drove him
back to the sledge, hoping that the dogs could now haul the two men
again. To his horror on reaching the komatik he found the real cause
of its running so much more easily. Ky was gone. Probably he had only
just slipped off. He would go back and look for him. But then he would
lose the dogs. Patsy was too lost to the world to understand anything
or to help. If he went back alone the dogs might follow and he would
lose Patsy as well. Still he must try it. Halting the dogs he turned
the komatik over, driving the upturned nose of the runners deep into
the snow; then he laid Patsy on the top, and, lashing him on, finally
began groping back down the steep rise for the missing man.

Not a sign was to be found; any traces he had left were not only
invisible, but impossible to feel, though he took off his mittens to
try. The pitiless, driving snow instantly levelled off every mark. How
long dare he delay? He remembered at last that even if he found him he
could do no good. He could never carry him up the hill. But he had
tried--had done his best and his conscience felt easier. And then
there was Patsy. He might save Patsy yet. It was right he should go
on. Fortunately the dogs were giving tongue when he crawled and
stumbled once more up the Leap. They knew their master had left them
and had come back to the komatik to wait. Some of them were huddled up
against the motionless body of the man. Surefoot, bolt upright on the
topmost bend, was leading the chorus. The komatik had to be extricated
and righted. Patsy was still breathing. His body must be re-lashed on
the right side; and then once more the weary march began--the march
that was a battle for every inch.

Of the remainder of the journey Sally