For the first time she turned to him, and spoke his name as she put her hand on his head.
After that she gave him a chunk of meat which she thawed out over the fire, and melted the snow for tea.

She was not hungry, but she recalled how her father had made her eat four or five times a day, so she forced herself to make a breakfast of a biscuit, a shred of meat and as much hot tea as she could drink.
The terrible hour she dreaded followed that.

She wrapped blankets closely about her father's body, and tied them with babiche cord.

After that she piled all the furs and blankets that remained on the sledge close to the fire, and snuggled baby Joan deep down in them.

Pulling down the tent was a task.