Dyenük said: "Keep those two apart, lest they fight!"
While the animals yowled, Okagamut paid off Dyenük, practically exhausting his and Singer's resources. Singer impulsively tossed his ring to Dyenük. "Give it to whichever girl marries first," he said. "Cheerio!"
They looked towards the plains. The black specks were nearer.
Okagamut cracked his whip and shouted: "Kshay!" The five fsyokn dug in their paws and pulled.
"Dzat!" They did a column-right at the road. Lumps of slush flew back over the sled; the Earthmen had to run. Singer found he could climb hills faster with his fur-shod skis than with the ordinary kind, since one could advance by simply sliding them parallel without herring-boning.
He was beginning to puff when the fsyokn settled down to a more normal pace. It was late in the long Krishnan day. In these latitudes it never got really dark, save for a short time around midnight in winter; the rest of the time there was either a low sun or twilight. The seasons differed but little because of the slight inclination of the planet's axis.
The layer of pearly cloud that covered the sky made it hard to tell direction, and soon the light became too dim to see those black specks far behind.
"By the gods," said Singer after a couple of hours, "I'm softer than I thought."
"Getting tired?"
"I can go as far as you, Mr. Okagamut."
"Okay. We want to do all we can before stopping." They did halt for an evening meal. Okagamut said: "Watch it, there. One biscuit's all you get."
"But I'm jolly starved!"
"I know, but you'll be hungrier yet if you don't stick to your ration. I warned you."
"Wowser!" muttered Singer. While he thought he was coming to dislike this reserved and competent young man, he didn't want to provoke him into leaving him flat in this white wilderness.
They went on again and reached the foot of Shtojë Glacier. Okagamut said: "We can wait here till morning, or start up the glacier and put a little more distance between us and Yadjye's boys before it gets dark. It'll be hard going, with crevasses, but if you'll take a chance I will."
"I'm with you," said Singer, and they started up.
On the steeper slopes both had to push on the rear of the sled while the animals heaved and panted in front. At times they even slid backwards. They passed crevasses: great ice-chasms dropping off into blue darkness. Singer shuddered as they threaded their way around them.
When Singer thought he would drop from exhaustion, Okagamut said: "We'll camp here; it's beginning to blow."
A breeze was raising an ankle-high drift. They found a level spot, staked out the animals, and set up the tent slowly and with much fumbling, for they were unused to their gear. The wind rose, making it hard to stake the tent and filling the air with a whirling, blinding, stinging cloud of snowflakes. They hastily fed the animals, pushed the sled so that one of its runners rested on the windward flap of the tent, and crawled through the tent-sleeve just as the wind began to blow in earnest. The tent-walls flapped with a deafening drum-like sound. Okagamut pulled off his footgear and pants and slid into his sleeping-bag. Singer did likewise, looking apprehensively at the snapping cloth over his head.
"I wonder," he said, "when this thing's going to take off."
A snore answered him.
For hours, it seemed, the racket kept him awake despite his fatigue. Then he slept, woke, and slept again. He woke again to find Okagamut preparing a meal. The wind still shrieked and shook the tent.
"How long does a blow like this keep up?" asked Singer.
"A ten-night, maybe."
"Don't poke borax at me!"
"No, I mean it."
"Won't that give the Johns a chance to catch us?" Okagamut shook his head. "They can't travel in it either."
They dozed the day away, except to crawl out into the drift to feed the fsyokn. The next night was the same; then the wind dropped.
Okagamut crept out through the sleeve and whistled. The fsyokn, looking unhappy with their fur full of icicles, howled a greeting. Singer came out too. The cloud-curtain was rolling back. The wind had in some places scoured off the snow, leaving glare ice, while in others it had packed the snow into wave-like ridges. "Sastrugi," said Okagamut. "Hard going."
"Look!" cried Singer, pointing.
Far down the slope they saw two brown oblongs against the white tents. There were many fsyokn pegged out, though at the distance they couldn't count them.
"Let's go," said Okagamut.
"How do you know they're after us? Might be a skiing party."
"I'm not taking a chance."
Although they worked fast, the cold numbed their fingers and the unfamiliar gear resisted their efforts to pack it back into the sled. A couple of specks had detached themselves from the other encampment and moved closer, growing to men. A faint hail came up the glacier: "You there! Stay where you are!"
"It's them," said Singer, collapsing the tent.
Something whistled and struck the ice with a sharp sound.
"They've got a crossbow," said Okagamut. "Why not fort up and shoot back with your little bow?"
"Nuts. They'd have us hopelessly out-ranged. Once we get going they'll never catch us. Here, catch this line and tie it to your belt."
Another missile whistled overhead. Okagamut cracked his whip, and off they went. The sastrugi made their sled pitch like a tugboat in a gale. Singer fell over the ridges and picked himself up until he was sure he was black and blue all over. He looked back and said:
"Those blokes with the bow have stopped, anyhow. The others seem to be breaking camp."
They struggled on. The party behind drew closer, until through his goggles Singer made out two nine-fsyok teams, each pulling a heavily-loaded sled, and five men. Sometimes the two Earthmen hit a patch of smooth, hard snow and drew ahead; then they'd meet a steep slope or a stretch of sastrugi or a crevassed area and the pursuers would gain.
"Hi!" said Singer. "They've stopped and are running about like a pack of flopping ants!"
Okagamut paused for a look. "Ha! One of their sleds has fallen down a crevasse, and they're trying to haul it out."
"There wasn't no crevasse there when we went over it—or was there?"
"Sure; we've been crossing snow-bridges all morning. With this warmer weather they're melting thin, and they're apt to drop out from under you. That's why we wear skis and go roped together. I suppose we'd weakened one, so that when their heavier teams crossed, it went."
"Ugh," said Singer with a shiver that was not entirely due to the cold.
The pursuers receded to a stippling on the landscape, and then were hidden by the contour of the glacier. The Earthmen slogged away until the low sun slanted towards the horizon again. Singer asked: "How d'you know your way?"
"Sun partly; I hope we don't have another overcast until we reach the plateau. Once we're there, there are mountains we can sight on."
They camped that evening when exhausted, and spent the night taking turns sleeping and watching. Next morning the snow turned slushy and stuck to skis and sled-runners. They had to push the sled, grunting. Singer once thought he saw moving specks on the horizon. The next day was much the same, though the slope became easier. Then another blizzard pinned them for a night, a day, and another night.
Singer stuck his head out the following morning and said: "Looks like clearing." He dressed, remarking: "At this rate I shan't have any potbelly left when we get to Olñega. Look at these trousers!"
His pants were indeed inches too large around the waist. He looked at himself in his little hand-mirror: his thin hair and abundant beard, once auburn but now' greying, were sprouting fast. Okagamut's hair was coming out glossy black, and the man seemed to have no beard to speak of.