. "One can eat the _tripe de
roche_ which grows upon the stones, but I don't know where to look for
it, and a North-West Police trooper who once tried it told me that it
made him very ill."

"Anyway, you had better take one of us along."

"With the axe?" Blake said, laughing. "It's bad enough to reach a
caribou with a rifle, and Benson's as poor a hand at stalking as I
know, while a day's rest may save you from getting a snowshoe leg. As
we haven't a sledge, it would be awkward to carry you to the factory."

They let him go, but when he reached the open his face hardened. The
sky had a threatening look, the snow was soft, and there were wolves
about, but he was comparatively safe while daylight lasted and food
must be found. During the morning he saw wolf tracks, but no sign of a
deer, and at noon sat down for a few minutes in a sheltered hollow and
managed to light the half-frozen pipe he kept in an inner pocket. He
had brought nothing to eat, since they had decided that it would be
prudent to dispense with a midday meal, and getting stiffly on his feet
by and by, he plodded from bluff to bluff throughout the afternoon.
For the most part, they were thin and the trees very small, while so
far as he could make out the country between them was covered with
slabs of rocks and stones. It was utterly empty, with no sign of life
in it, but he continued his search until the light began to fail, when
he stopped to look about.

No snow had fallen, but the sky was very thick and a stinging wind had
risen, while he would have trouble in reaching camp if his trail got
drifted up. He knew he should have turned back earlier, but there was
what seemed to be an extensive wood in front, and he could not face the
thought of returning empty-handed to his scanty, unearned supper. The
grey trees were not far away; he might reach them and make a mile or
two on the back trail before dark, though he was weary and hunger had
given him a pain in his left side.

Quickening his pace, he neared the bluff, which looked very black and
shadowy against the snow, though the latter was fading to a curious,
lifeless grey. The trees were stunted and scattered, which made it
possible for him to get through, though there were half-covered, fallen
branches which entangled his big shoes. He could see no tracks of any
animal and hardly expected to do so, but in a savage mood he held on
without much caution until he entered a belt of broken groun