Page:Weird Tales Volume 7 Number 1 (1926-01).djvu/100

98 several tons of snow," chided Taggert.

The wind had fashioned a sheltered hollow in the lee of the rock where they had taken refuge. The intense cold which prevailed in spite of the heavy snowfall, however, made it imperative that they keep in motion to avoid being frozen. Already Robert recognized a warning feeling of drowziness. He shook himself alert with an effort.

"Can't sit here," he said, suiting the action to the word by rising and stamping his feet. Stabbings as of a thousand needles seemed to run through them at first. If only there were some fuel! Matches they had in plenty.

Taggert struck a listening attitude. A familiar humming was faintly audible above the whine of the blizzard!

Together they listened with bated breath as the humming grew plainer. Alas, a few moments later it passed away, and with it went their hopes.

"Missed us," ejaculated Taggert, with an involuntary oath.

The realization that the Sphere had just passed them by in a vain search for them brought their already drooping spirits to zero for a while. Here had been safety and comfort within perhaps a few rods, and they had been unable to make their presence known. Robert pictured Professor Palmer's anxious gaze as he peered downward into the veil of flying snow.

"Cheer up, Tag," Robert admonished, with an attempt at enthusiasm which his feelings belied. "The professor will be doubling back trying to find us. He'll run up on us yet."

"Maybe he will—if he doesn't bounce the old ball into the lake," replied Taggert, doubtfully. "Say, I wish one of us had brought a 'gat' along so that we could signal him if he gets near us again."

For several minutes they stamped about their cramped shelter, heating their arms round their bodies in an effort to keep up their circulation. As the time slipped by without further sound of the Sphere their hopes dropped still lower. The situation was becoming desperate.

Their dismal reflections were abruptly interrupted by a resumption of the humming sound, heralding the approach of the Sphere again. Both men stiffened, listening intently, the spark of revived hope burning again within their breasts as the fleeting moments passed. Would the Sphere come close enough in this game of blind man's buff to discover them? Or would it pass them by again, leaving them finally to their doom?

The prospect of freezing to death in the arctic region of a strange planet seemed a dreadful thing. In the heat of battle a man may find death in the midst of wild enthusiasm and patriotism. But here, hemmed in by a wall of beautiful, but deadly, flying flakes, there was no excitement to mask the death awaiting them—only a fearful realization of their fate, millions of miles away from their countrymen—alone! Yet in those fateful moments Robert's thoughts were mainly of Zola. Would he ever see her again?

With leaping heart he realized that the Sphere was coming closer—closer than before. He strained his eyes as he endeavored to pierce the intangible walls of their vast prison. Ah, what was that dark blur hurtling through the white froth? It was passing them by again. He joined with Taggert in his shouts. Fools, to think their muffled cries could rise above the tumult of the gale and the whir of the Sphere's machinery, piercing its thick, metal walls!

The fast-fading blur seemed to pause in its flight a moment. But even as they dared to hope, it passed out of sight again. Then quite abruptly it appeared again, this time