The frozen moisture of its breathing had settled on its fur ina fine powder of frost， and especially were its jowls， muzzle，and eyelashes whitened by its crystalled breath. The man’s redbeard and moustache were likewise frosted， but more solidly，the deposit taking the form of ice and increasing with everywarm， moist breath he exhaled. Also， the man was chewingtobacco， and the muzzle of ice held his lips so rigidly that hewas unable to clear his chin when he expelled the juice. Theresult was that a crystal beard of the colour and solidity ofamber was increasing its length on his chin. If he fell down itwould shatter itself， like glass， into brittle fragments. But hedid not mind the appendage. It was the penalty all tobacco-chewers paid in that country， and he had been out before intwo cold snaps. They had not been so cold as this， he knew， butby the spirit thermometer at Sixty Mile he knew they had beenregistered at fifty below and at fifty-five.
He held on through the level stretch of woods for severalmiles， crossed a wide flat of nigger-heads， and dropped down abank to the frozen bed of a small stream. This was HendersonCreek， and he knew he was ten miles from the forks. Helooked at his watch. It was ten o’clock. He was walking fourmiles an hour， and he calculated that he would arrive at theforks at half-past twelve. He decided to celebrate that event byeating his lunch there.
The dog dropped in again at his heels， with a tail droopingdiscouragement， as the man swung along the creek-bed. Thefurrow of the old sled-trail was plainly visible， but a dozeninches of snow covered the marks of the last runners. In amonth no man had come up or down that silent creek. Theman held steadily on. He was not much given to thinking， andjust then particularly he had nothing to think about save that hewould eat lunch at the forks and that at six o’clock he wouldbe in camp with the boys. There was nobody to talk to and，had there been， speech would have been impossible because ofthe ice-muzzle on his mouth. So he continued monotonously tochew tobacco and to increase the length of his amber beard.
Once in a while the thought reiterated itself that it wasvery cold and that he had never experienced such cold. As hewalked along he rubbed his cheek-bones and nose with theback of his mittened hand. He did this automatically， nowand again changing hands. But rub as he would， the instant hestopped his cheek-bones went numb， and the following instantthe end of his nose went numb. He was sure to frost his cheeks；he knew that， and experienced a pang of regret that he had notdevised a nose-strap of the sort Bud wore in cold snaps. Such astrap passed across the cheeks， as well， and saved them. But itdidn’t matter much， after all. What were frosted cheeks？ A bitpainful， that was all； they were never serious.
Empty as the man’s mind was of thoughts， he was keenlyobservant， and he noticed the changes in the creek， the curvesand bends and timber-jams， and always he sharply notedwhere he placed his feet. Once， coming around a bend， heshied abruptly， like a startled horse， curved away from theplace where he had been walking， and retreated several pacesback along the trail. The creek he knew was frozen clear to thebottom—no creek could contain water in that arctic winter—but he knew also that there were springs that bubbled out fromthe hillsides and ran along under the snow and on top the iceof the creek. He knew that the coldest snaps never froze thesesprings， and he knew likewise their danger. They were traps.
They hid pools of water under the snow that might be threeinches deep， or three feet. Sometimes a skin of ice half aninch thick covered them， and in turn was covered by the snow.
Sometimes there were alternate layers of water and ice-skin， sothat when one broke through he kept on breaking through for awhile， sometimes wetting himself to the waist.
That was why he had shied in such panic. He had felt the giveunder his feet and heard the crackle of a snow-hidden ice-skin.
And to get his feet wet in such a temperature meant trouble anddanger. At the very least it meant delay， for he would be forcedto stop and build a fire， and under its protection to bare his feetwhile he dried his socks and moccasins. He stood and studiedthe creek-bed and its banks， and decided that the flow of watercame from the right. He reflected awhile， rubbing his nose andcheeks， then skirted to the left， stepping gingerly and testingthe footing for each step. Once clear of the danger， he took afresh chew of tobacco and swung along at his four-mile gait.
In the course of the next two hours he came upon severaltraps. Usually the snow above the hidden pools had a sunken，candied appearance that advertised the danger. Once again，however， he had a close call； and once， suspecting danger， hecompelled the dog to go on in front. The dog did not want to go.
It hung back until the man shoved it forward， and then it wentquickly across the white， unbroken surface. Suddenly it brokethrough， floundered to one side， and got away to firmer footing.
It had wet its forefeet and legs， and almost immediately thewater that clung to it turned to ice. It made quick efforts to lickthe ice off its legs， then dropped down in the snow and beganto bite out the ice that had formed between the toes. This wasa matter of instinct. To permit the ice to remain would meansore feet. It did not know this. It merely obeyed the mysteriousprompting that arose from the deep crypts of its being. But theman knew， having achieved a judgment on the subject， and heremoved the mitten from his right hand and helped tear out theice-particles. He did not expose his fingers more than a minute，and was astonished at the swift numbness that smote them. Itcertainly was cold. He pulled on the mitten hastily， and beat thehand savagely across his chest.
