They travelled on without speech, saving their breath for the work of their bodies.On every side was the silence, pressing upon them with a tangible presence.

Itaffected their minds as the many atmospheres of deep water affect the body of thediver.

It crushed them with the weight of unending vastness and unalterabledecree.

It crushed them into the remotest recesses of their own minds, pressingout of them, like juices from the grape, all the false ardours and exaltations andundue self-values of the human soul, until they perceived themselves finite andsmall, specks and motes, moving with weak cunning and little wisdom amidst theplay and inter-play of the great blind elements and forces.An hour went by, and a second hour.

The pale light of the short sunless day wasbeginning to fade, when a faint far cry arose on the still air.

It soared upward with aswift rush, till it reached its topmost note, where it persisted, palpitant and tense,and then slowly died away.

It might have been a lost soul wailing, had it not beeninvested with a certain sad fierceness and hungry eagerness.

The front man turnedhis head until his eyes met the eyes of the man behind. And then, across the narrowoblong box, each nodded to the other.A second cry arose, piercing the silence with needle-like shrillness.

Both menlocated the sound. It was to the rear, somewhere in the snow expanse they had justtraversed.

A third and answering cry arose, also to the rear and to the left of thesecond cry."They're after us, Bill," said the man at the front.His voice sounded hoarse and unreal, and he had spoken with apparent effort."Meat is scarce," answered his comrade. "I ain't seen a rabbit sign for days."Thereafter they spoke no more, though their ears were keen for the hunting-criesthat continued to rise behind them.