Not a rock or a shrub rose to break the monotony, and over his head--so low that at times it seemed as though he might have flung a stone up to them--dark clouds rolled sullenly from out of the north and east.
Half a dozen times in those first two hours he looked at his compass.
Not once in that time did Bram diverge from his steady course into the north.

In the gray gloom, without a stone or a tree to mark his way, his sense of orientation was directing him as infallibly as the sensitive needle of the instrument which Philip carried.
It was in the third hour, seven or eight miles from the scene of slaughter, that Philip came upon the first stopping place of the sledge.

The wolves had not broken their traveling rank, and for this reason he guessed that Bram had paused only long enough to put on his snowshoes.

After this Philip could measure quite accurately the speed of the outlaw and his pack.

Bram's snow-shoe strides were from twelve to sixteen inches longer than his own, and there was little doubt that Bram was traveling six miles to his four.
It was one o'clock when Philip stopped to eat his dinner.