Speed and emptiness quicken his thoughts, make them electric and brilliant. Like jagged teeth of Himalayan peaks, the twin destinies of glory or death race with him. Sled-runners hiss and ice stars fleck his cheeks. The grey tails of the dogs sway like disconnected rudders. The animals, in V formation, roll like a river of fur, racing into nowhere. Grenfell’s heart beats fast as he thinks back through the short conversation with Mrs. Evans; in a few words he took a plunge from which there would be no easy return. “You can’t do that, Doctor. It’s thirty miles distant and the ice is breaking up.” “I have to go, Mrs. Evans. It’s a matter of life or death.” He fingered the note in his pocket. “Why didn’t you go with the messengers?” “They thought they’d slow me down. The note explains.” “Let me fetch my husband.
