DeBar had started to cross the lake, and then, changing his mind, had turned back and skirted the edge of it.

Philip followed the outlaw's trail with his eyes and saw that he could strike it again and save distance by crossing the snow-covered ice.
He went on, with dogs and sledge at his heels, unconscious of the warning underfoot that had turned DeBar back.

In midlake he turned to urge the dogs into a faster pace, and it was then that he heard under him a hollow, trembling sound, growing in volume even as he hesitated, until it surged in under his feet from every shore, like the rolling thunder of a ten-pin ball.

With a loud cry to the dogs he darted forward, but it was too late.

Behind him the ice crashed like brittle glass, and he saw sledge and dogs disappear as if into an abyss.