“If there had been anythin’ to do, it would have been easier,” the Alaskan continued, “but to move was not more dangerous than to stay still.  In answer to a sign, the Indian started up the dogs again, an’ we went on, though the road ahead looked like the ice-forest of a disordered dream.  Presently, without a moment’s warnin’ one of the huge snow pillars came rushin’ straight at us, an’ I braced myself by the sledge to hold to it if I could, but it swerved before it reached us an’ ran along beside the trail.  About fifty feet ahead it swerved again and cut across the trail, an’ the extreme edge caught the Indian, picked him up in the air, an’ threw him at least thirty feet.”

“Was he hurt?” cried Hamilton.

“Not a bit, for there was nothin’ to fall on but snow.  He picked himself up, looked carefully at his snow-shoes to see that they had not been damaged, an’ resumed his place at the head of the dogs.  What would have become of him if he had been plucked into the middle of the whirlwind is hard to say.  I wouldn’t have counted on seein’ him again anyway.”

“But you never really got caught by any?”

“Wouldn’t be here talkin’, if I had,” was the reply.  “But when we come to the track of that whirlwind column, it was a puzzle how to get across.  The column, goin’ like a railroad train, had cut a gully in the hard snow full ten feet deep,—­the sides as clean cut as though done with a knife, or rather with a scoop, because the edge was slightly scolloped all the way along.”

“How did you get across?”

“Axes,” was the brief reply.  “We cut through the snow crust and beat down a steep path on both sides of the gully an’ made the dogs take it.  Dog harness is strong, but I was afraid of the strain on it that time.”

“How long did the blizzard last?”

“You mean the whirlwinds?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered.

“Not very long,—­quarter of an hour, perhaps.  Then I felt a slight breeze, an’ at the same moment the columns, bendin’ their heads like grass before the wind, swept to the right of us, an’ were out of sight in a moment.  The Indian yelled and pointed to the left, throwin’ himself on the ground as he did so.”

“What was it?” cried Hamilton.

“It looked like a solid wall of snow, an’ before I realized it was comin’, the storm struck, hurled me to the ground, an’ rolled me over an’ over in the snow.  I wasn’t hurt, of course, but it took me so long to get my breath that I thought it was never goin’ to come, an’ that I should suffocate.  But after that first burst, the blizzard settled down to the regular variety, an’ we all felt more at home.  But even at that, it was the worst one I ever saw in the North, an’ I’ve been there nine winters.”

“What did you do?  Go back?”