Still, as the twilight of dawn took the place of night, he did not
move, except to draw himself a little closer into the shelter of
the scrub spruce behind which he had hidden himself. He wondered
if Celie would be frightened at his absence. But he could not
compel himself to go on--or back. SOMETHING WAS COMING! He was as
positive of it as he was of the fact that night was giving place
to day. Yet he could see nothing--hear nothing. It was light
enough now for him to see movement fifty yards away, and he kept
his eyes fastened on the little open across which their trail had
come. If Olaf Anderson the Swede had been there he might have told
him of another night like this, and another vigil. For Olaf had
learned that the Eskimos, like the wolves, trail two by two and
four by four, and that--again like the wolves--they pursue not ON
the trail but with the trail between them.
But it was the trail that Philip watched; and as he kept his
vigil--that inexplicable mental undercurrent telling him that his
enemies were coming--his mind went back sharply to the girl a
hundred yards behind him.
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