Ingolf bore towards the west. He had the wind on his right side, a little against him. He had to climb rising ground, although not very steep. He only made slow progress. But he felt his strength and how his body was, as it were, braced together in one strain. And it was as though this consciousness of his own strength continually produced new strength again. He was so absolutely determined to hold out till he found Leif or fell dead that there was not the slightest breach in his will, where doubt and fatigue might insinuate their poisonous disintegrating vapours.
For the present, his object was only to go round the wood to the other side and see whether he could not find Leif's tracks and the place where he had entered the wood. If he could find Leif's, or rather the horse's, tracks, his dog would be a considerable help in following them. And if _he_ could not find them, it was not impossible that the dog might. Such was Ingolf's plan.
Now and then he looked at the dog faithfully plodding after him. When it ran along unnoticed, it dropped its tail discontentedly. It did not see any object in such an expedition in this weather, and could not possibly approve of it at first. But as soon as Ingolf spoke kindly to it, or it only noticed that it was observed, it cocked its tail and sprang forward at his side, gladly barking, and talked to him in dog-language.
They went steadily forward, although their progress was slow. To his joy, Ingolf noticed that the wind was abating. The snow-clouds were gradually dividing, and the moon's pale disc shone against a background of blue. Around him spread a white expanse, abruptly broken by the dark line of the edge of the wood a little to the right. There was no longer an upward incline; he sped along easily and softly on his ski, and looked about him. The snow-clouds as they departed opened an ever-widening horizon to his view. He must clearly ascertain where he was. Now he knew the place and could do that correctly for himself. Yes, he was up on the heath, and had only to turn to the right and follow the line of the wood. His snow-shoes glided easily upon the smooth, even surface of the snow. With each step he increased his speed. For now a mental tension took hold of him, and filled him with restlessness. He called to his dog, roused it up, and urged it on with short, explanatory shouts. He made it understand that he was seeking something, and counted on its help. Suddenly the dog was awake in every nerve. Now he could understand his master and feel with him. Eagerly he ran on ahead, nosing at the snow. Hither and thither he ran, in larger and smaller curves. Now and then Ingolf seemed to perceive in it an impulse to stand still. But it never came completely to a stop, only making a half pause. The dog was so engrossed in its mission of finding something, though it knew not what, that it completely forgot its tail, and let it hang obliquely down behind, completing the impression of self-forgetting absorption.