He figured that he was fifteen miles from the timber-line.

As he ate there pressed upon him more and more persistently the feeling that he had entered upon an adventure which was leading toward inevitable disaster for him.
For the first time the significance of Bram's supply of meat, secured by the outlaw at the last moment before starting out into the Barren, appeared to him with a clearness that filled him with uneasiness.

It meant that Bram required three or four days' rations for himself and his pack in crossing this sea of desolation that reached in places to the Arctic.

In that time, if necessity was driving him, he could cover a hundred and fifty miles, while Philip could make less than a hundred.
Until three o'clock in the afternoon he followed steadily over Bram's trail.

He would have pursued for another hour if a huge and dome-shaped snowdrift had not risen in his path.