CHAPTER XLI. 



BAD -WEATHER CAMP. 



THE next day there was nothing for it but to remain where we 

 were and wait quietly, for it was blowing so hard that there was 

 no possibility of pushing on. The dogs were remarkably quiet 

 that day ; I did not hear a sound from them, and began to be 

 anxious as I lay in the bag. I listened and listened, but heard 

 nothing except the howling and whistling of the storm. This was 

 really rather curious, and it was just possible they might be snowed 

 down a pretty state of affairs it would be if they were lying out 

 there being suffocated so I went out after them, though rather 

 earlier than I had expected to do so. There they lay, safe and 

 sound, though for this they had partly themselves to thank. 

 These dogs have an instinct which prompts them to move their 

 position according as the drifts grow higher, and they always 

 try to keep on the top of the drift. When I went out to them 

 they were perched so high up that their traces were stretched to 

 the utmost. It was a long and cold job digging away the snow 

 sufficiently to loosen the traces, but we managed it in the end, 

 tied them up in another place, and turned in again. 



It was anything but pleasant outside that day. The snow had 

 drifted to such a height round the tent, that from a short distance 

 we could see nothing of it but a glimpse of the/ top. With a wall 

 of snow like this the tent was, of course, somewhat protected, but 

 a storm has a most remarkable way of finding out weak spots, and 

 several times it attacked us with such fury that we thought the 

 tent was gone. 



Here we lay for one day, and then another. Then another 

 and two more five whole days ! In such circumstances one has 



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