North and south, as far as his eye could see, it was unbroken white, save for a dark hair-line that curved and twisted from around the spruce- covered island to the south, and that curved and twisted away into the north, where it disappeared behind another spruce-covered island. It was all pure white, rolling in gentle undulations where the ice-jams of the freeze-up had formed. On top of this ice were as many feet of snow. The Yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice. The man flung a look back along the way he had come. It had been days since he had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more days must pass before that cheerful orb, due south, would just peep above the sky- line and dip immediately from view. It was a clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun. There was no sun nor hint of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky. It was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, excusing the act to himself by looking at his watch. Day had broken cold and grey, exceedingly cold and grey, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth- bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland.
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