The man’s red beard and mustache were likewise frosted，but more solidly， the deposit taking the form of ice andincreasing with every warm， moist breath he exhaled.
Also， the man was chewing tobacco， and the muzzle of iceheld his lips so rigidly that he was unable to clear his chinwhen he expelled the juice. The result was that a crystalbeard of the color and solidity of amber was increasing itslength on his chin. If he fell down it would shatter itself，like glass， into brittle fragments. But he did not mind theappendage. It was the penalty all tobacco-chewers paidin that country， and he had been out before in two coldsnaps. They had not been so cold as this， he knew， but bythe spirit thermometer at Sixty Mile he knew they hadbeen registered at fifty below and at fifty-five.
He held on through the level stretch of woods forseveral miles， crossed a wide flat of niggerheads， anddropped down a bank to the frozen bed of a small stream.
This was Henderson Creek， and he knew he was ten milesfrom the forks. He looked at his watch. It was ten o’clock.
He was making four miles an hour， and he calculatedthat he would arrive at the forks at half-past twelve. Hedecided to celebrate that event by eating his lunch there.
The dog dropped in again at his heels， with a taildrooping discouragement， as the man swung along thecreek-bed. The furrow of the old sled-trail was plainlyvisible， but a dozen inches of snow covered the marksof the last runners. In a month no man had come up ordown that silent creek. The man held steadily on. He wasnot much given to thinking， and just then particularly hehad nothing to think about save that he would eat lunchat the forks and that at six o’clock he would be in campwith the boys. There was nobody to talk to； and， had therebeen， speech would have been impossible because of theice-muzzle on his mouth. So he continued monotonouslyto chew tobacco and to increase the length of his amberbeard.
Once in a while the thought reiterated itself that it wasvery cold and that he had never experienced such cold. Ashe walked along he rubbed his cheek-bones and nose withthe back of his mittened hand. He did this automatically，now and again changing hands. But rub as he would， theinstant he stopped his cheek-bones went numb， and thefollowing instant the end of his nose went numb. He wassure to frost his cheeks； he knew that， and experienced apang of regret that he had not devised a nose-strap of thesort Bud wore in cold snaps. Such a strap passed acrossthe cheeks， as well， and saved them. But it didn’t mattermuch， after all. What were frosted cheeks？ A bit painful，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， thecurves and bends and timber-jams， and always he sharplynoted where he placed his feet. Once， coming around abend， he shied abruptly， like a startled horse， curved awayfrom the place where he had been walking， and retreatedseveral paces back along the trail. The creek he knew wasfrozen clear to the bottom，—no creek could contain waterin that arctic winter，—but he knew also that there weresprings that bubbled out from the hillsides and ran alongunder the snow and on top the ice of the creek. He knewthat the coldest snaps never froze these springs， and heknew likewise their danger. They were traps. They hidpools of water under the snow that might be three inchesdeep， or three feet. Sometimes a skin of ice half an inchthick covered them， and in turn was covered by the snow.
Sometimes there were alternate layers of water and iceskin，so that when one broke through he kept on breakingthrough for a while， sometimes wetting himself to thewaist.
That was why he had shied in such panic. He hadfelt the give under his feet and heard the crackle of asnow-hidden ice-skin. And to get his feet wet in such atemperature meant trouble and danger. At the very leastit meant delay， for he would be forced to stop and builda fire， and under its protection to bare his feet while hedried his socks and moccasins. He stood and studied thecreek-bed and its banks， and decided that the flow ofwater came from the right. He reflected awhile， rubbinghis nose and cheeks， then skirted to the left， steppinggingerly and testing the footing for each step. Once clearof the danger， he took a fresh chew of tobacco and swungalong at his four-mile gait. In the course of the next twohours he came upon several similar traps. Usually the snowabove the hidden pools had a sunken， candied appearancethat advertised the danger. Once again， however， he had aclose call； and once， suspecting danger， he compelled thedog to go on in front. The dog did not want to go. It hungback until the man shoved it forward， and then it wentquickly across the white， unbroken surface. Suddenly itbroke through， floundered to one side， and got away tofirmer footing. It had wet its forefeet and legs， and almostimmediately the water that clung to it turned to ice. Itmade quick efforts to lick the ice off its legs， then droppeddown in the snow and began to bite out the ice that hadformed between the toes. This was a matter of instinct. Topermit the ice to remain would mean sore feet. It did notknow this. It merely obeyed the mysterious promptingthat arose from the deep crypts of its being. But the manknew， having achieved a judgment on the subject， and heremoved the mitten from his right hand and helped tearout the ice-particles. He did not expose his fingers morethan a minute， and was astonished at the swift numbnessthat smote them. It certainly was cold. He pulled on themitten hastily， and beat the hand savagely across his chest.
