returned to the camp. We
fell down around the fires in sullen silence. Garey continued pacing
back and forth, now glancing up at the sky, and at times kneeling down,
and running his hand over the surface of the snow. At length he
approached the fire, and in his slow, drawling manner, remarked--

"`It's a-gwine to friz, I reckin.'

"`Well! and if it does?' asked one of his comrades, without caring for
an answer to the question.

"`Wal, an iv it does,' repeated the trapper, `we'll walk out o' this
hyar jug afore sun-up, an' upon a good hard trail too.'

"The expression of every face was changed, as if by magic. Several
leaped to their feet. Gode, the Canadian, skilled in snow-craft, ran to
a bank, and drawing his hand along the combing, shouted back--

"`_C'est vrai; il gele; il gele_!'

"A cold wind soon after set in, and, cheered by the brightening
prospect, we began to think of the fires, that, during our late moments
of reckless indifference, had been almost suffered to burn out. The
Delawares, seizing their tomahawks, commenced hacking at the pines,
while others dragged forward the fallen trees, lopping off their
branches with the keen scalping-knife.

"At this moment a peculiar cry attracted our attention, and, looking
around, we perceived one of the Indians drop suddenly upon his knees,
striking the ground with his hatchet.

"`What is it? what is it?' shouted several voices, in almost as many
languages.

"`_Yam-yam! yam-yam_!' replied the Indian, still digging at the frozen
ground.

"`The Injun's right; it's _man-root_!' said Garey, picking up some
leaves which the Delaware had chopped off.

"I recognised a plant well-known to the mountain-men--a rare, but
wonderful convolvulus, the _Iponea leptophylla_. The name of `man-root'
is given to it by the hunters from the similarity of its root in shape,
and sometimes in size, to the body of a man. It is esculent, and serves
to sustain human life.

"In an instant, half-a-dozen men were upon their knees, chipping and
hacking the hard clay, but their hatchets glinted off as from the
surface of a rock.

"`Look hyar!' cried Garey; `ye're only spoilin' yer tools. Cut down a
wheen o' these pine saplin's, and make a fire over him!'

"The hint was instantly followed, and in a few minutes a dozen pieces of
pine were piled upon the spot, and set on fire.

"We stood around the burning branches with eager anticipation. Should
the root prove a `full-grow