The Unlikely Allies by Gilbert Morris Read Free Book Online

pan of water also bubbled over the fire.
    “Eat.”
    Mallory quickly followed Orva’s instructions, and as soon as she was finished with the sparse meal, Orva looked squarely at her. “You want to go on?”
    “Of course.”
    “We can go back. You’re not going to make it. This is only November. It will get colder yet in December and January.”
    The challenge angered Mallory. “If I don’t make it, just put me on the sled and let the reindeer pull me.”
    “Hah!” Orva laughed, her eyes crinkling up till they were almost invisible. “I’ll steal everything you have and leave you for the wolves.”
    Her threat silenced Mallory. She wasn’t sure if Orva had said it in jest or was serious. Struggling with her numb hands and feet, Mallory helped as best she could to take down the tent. When the reindeer did not promptly obey Orva’s orderto come be harnessed, she struck it so hard with one of the tent poles that it staggered.
    “Don’t do that, Orva,” Mallory said, shocked at her mistreatment of the animal.
    “It’s just a beast.”
    “He has feelings too. Don’t hit him again.”
    Orva stared at her employer, silent for a moment. “You’re too soft,” she grumbled and shrugged. “You’ll toughen up, though—if you live that long.”
    Before they set out again, Orva took a lengthy swallow from her jug. She lowered it and stared at Mallory, daring her to say something. “Aren’t you going to preach at me?”
    “I don’t think you should drink.”
    Orva cursed and capped the jug, glaring at Mallory. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’d die without me.”
    So the day began and continued with Orva leading the way and drinking. They traveled until almost midmorning before Mallory asked a question that had been puzzling her. “How come the sun sets so early in the afternoon?”
    Orva looked around and grunted. “Better get used to the dark. Come December, you won’t be seeing the sun for weeks.”
    Mallory shivered uncontrollably now, not only from the cold but from the realization that they were far enough north that the sun would soon be staying below the horizon. She tried to concentrate on putting one foot ahead of the other, but she felt as if she were in an alien atmosphere. The ground was hilly, uneven, and rocky, as well as being covered with snowy moss and lichens, which provided cushioning for their feet but was awkward and slippery to walk across. The farther north and inland they went, the colder it became.
    At one of their resting places, Orva pointed toward some movement in the distance. “Look, reindeer herd.”
    “Is it your people?” Mallory asked hopefully.
    “No.” There was no further explanation. Orva did not believe in wasting words. “We go now,” she said as she got up.
    Mallory stuck it out until midafternoon, and finally she had to tell Orva she could go no farther. The sun had already set, and she was too tired to even help put up the tent, but Orva put it up quickly and efficiently. Once again it took all of Mallory’s strength to resist the numbing effects of the cold. She walked back and forth stamping the earth, trying to get feeling into her feet, and beating her arms against her sides to restore circulation.
    Orva cooked a simple meal, and after they had eaten, she fed the fire with a few more twigs. They both sat staring into the tiny flame. It gave off a pitiful amount of heat, and Mallory, hungry for warmth, crowded close. “Couldn’t we build it up bigger?”
    “It won’t help. When it goes down again, it’ll just seem colder.”
    The two women sat there quietly, Orva simply staring into the fire. There was a stolid hardness about her, and Mallory thought, She’s just like this land. Mallory offered up a prayer before asking her companion, “Orva, will you let me tell you about my God?”
    “You can if you want, but it won’t do any good.”
    Mallory smiled at the invitation and began. “There is one God, Orva. He made all of this. He made the