During the night a storm came up which would necessarily much impede their progress, being called in the western world a "blizzard." This storm fiend, once met, is never forgotten. None but the man in the Arctic has seen him. None know so well how to elude him. Like a Peele, or a "tremblor" this Arctic king gathers his forces, more mighty than armies in battle, and sweeps all opponents before him. To resist means death. To crouch, cower or bow down to this implacable lord of the polar world is the only way to evade his wrath when he rides abroad, and woe to the man who thinks otherwise. Not long had the wind and snow been blowing when the little train prepared to move. Ahead they could see the sled tracks of other "mushers" (travelers by dog-team), and the captain concluded to hurry along, notwithstanding that Ah Chugor Ruk shook his head, and spat tobacco juice upon the ground, and Ung Kah Ah Ruk demurred stoutly in few words. Punni Churah thought as the rest, but would go ahead if the captain so ordered, and they headed northwest for the portage. On the dogs trotted for hours. The snow and sleet were blinding, the wind had risen to a gale. The dogs traveled less rapidly now, and their faces were covered with frost, the moisture freezing as they breathed. By this time the natives wanted to camp where they were, or head about northeast for another Eskimo village called Ungaliktulik, which would make the journey longer by twenty-five miles, but the captain decided to keep on as they were going. By the middle of the afternoon the gale had increased to fury, causing the thermometer to fall with great rapidity, while the snow was blinding. The dogs were curling up in the wind like leaves before a blaze. Ah Chugor Ruk was ahead with his team. His leader suddenly halted. "Muk-a-muk!" cried the Eskimo. "Muk!" echoed Punni Churah, running up alongside to look, and then back to the captain's sled, where he shouted something loudly in order to be heard above the storm. An ice crack crossed their trail. There was no help for it. There it lay, dark and cold--the dreaded water. In the blinding blizzard they could not see the width of the chasm. It was too wide for them to bridge; it was death to remain where they were--they must turn back, and they did so. The wind was not now in their faces as before, which made traveling some easier, but they had not gone far when: "Muk-a-muk!" from Punni this time, who was ahead. Again the dogs stopped. Again Punni Churah came back, and reported.