VII 



BLIND LEADING THE BLIND 



THERE is some comfort in the reflection that John and 

 I had a good camp that first night we were alone, for 

 there was bitterness enough in store for us in the next 

 four days. To begin with, it was impossible for me to 

 wear snow-shoes in breaking trail for the dogs, although 

 the snow was nearly knee-deep and the going heavy, be- 

 cause I had never used a web snow-shoe before, and con- 

 sequently was not sufficiently expert to feel the McMur- 

 ray trail under the foot and a half of snow and to follow 

 this trail by feeling it was our only means of guidance. 

 Then our bacon was about out, and we had but one meal 

 of fish for the dogs. Therefore I was not hilarious when 

 we started off at four in the morning in a blinding snow- 

 storm. " Shot " had told me something of the nature of 

 the country over which the trail led, but the country was 

 all alike to us in that storm. I know we went through 

 woods, for several times I fell heavily against a tree, but 

 nothing was visible except on closest inspection. My 

 senses were all concentrated on feeling that trail, and my 

 energies directed to weathering the storm, whose fury was 

 beginning to be the more perceptible as the day dawned, 

 when suddenly I dropped through space I thought at 

 the time about twenty feet, but I guess it was not more 

 than ten and the dogs and the sledge and John fell on 

 top of me. When we had disentangled ourselves I had a 



