George Tracy Marsh

“ In the early evening, forty-eight hours from Whale River, one hundred and fifty miles up the coast, four white wraiths of huskies with a ghostlike driver, turned in to the trade house at Fort George. The spent dogs lay down, dropping their frosted masks in the snow, the froth from their mouths rimming their lips with ice. ”

“ Reaching the bay the trail swung south, skirting the beach, often cutting inland to avoid circling long points and shoulders of shore. Marcel was too dogwise to push his huskies as they swung south on the sea ice, for no sled dogs work well after eating.
As the late moon slowly lifted, he shook his head, for it was a moon of snow. If only the weather held until he could bring his man from Fort George! That he could average fifty miles a day going and coming, with the light sled, he was confident. ”

“ With their superb vitality and staying power, they had traveled steadily through the night. Led by their tireless mother, each hour they had put five miles of snowy trail behind them. With the weather steady, Marcel had no doubt of when he would get back to Whale River, for the weight of an extra man on the sled would be little felt on a hard trail, and he would run much himself. But with the menace of snow and wind hanging over him, he traveled with a heavy heart. ”