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The Toil of Trace and Trail
Thedogssprangagainstthebreast-bands,strainedhardforafewmoments,thenrelaxed. Theywereunabletomovethesled.
"Thelazybrutes,I’llshowthem,"hecried,preparingtolashoutatthemwiththewhip.
ButMercedesinterfered,crying, "Oh,Hal,youmustn’t,"asshecaughtholdofthewhipandwrencheditfromhim. "Thepoordears!Nowyoumustpromiseyouwon’tbeharshwiththemfortherestofthetrip,orIwon’tgoastep."
"Preciouslotyouknowaboutdogs,"herbrothersneered;"andIwishyou’dleavemealone. They’relazy,Itellyou,andyou’vegottowhipthemtogetanythingoutofthem.That’stheirway. Youaskanyone. Askoneofthosemen."
Mercedeslookedatthemimploringly,untoldrepugnanceatsightofpainwritteninherprettyface.
"They’reweakaswater,ifyouwanttoknow,"camethereplyfromoneofthemen. "Plumtuckeredout,that’swhat’sthematter. Theyneedarest."
"Restbeblanked,"saidHal,withhisbeardlesslips; andMercedessaid,"Oh!"inpainandsorrowattheoath.
Butshewasaclannishcreature,andrushedatoncetothedefenceofherbrother. "Nevermindthatman,"shesaidpointedly. "You’redrivingourdogs,andyoudowhatyouthinkbestwiththem."
AgainHal’swhipfelluponthedogs. Theythrewthemselvesagainstthebreast-bands,dugtheirfeetintothepackedsnow,gotdownlowtoit,andputforthalltheirstrength. Thesledheldasthoughitwereananchor.
