their voices away, while if this happened the chances were against
their comrade's being able to rejoin them. By and by Blake shouted and
the answer was reassuring. They waited for a time and then when they
cried out a hail came back very faintly: "Nothing yet!"

"Keep closer!" Blake shouted, but it seemed that Benson did not hear
him, for there was no reply.

"Hadn't you better go after him?" Harding suggested.

"No," said Blake shortly. "It would make things worse to scatter." He
raised his voice. "Come back before your tracks fill up."

The silence that followed filled them with alarm, but while they
listened in strained suspense a minute or two later a faint call came
out of the snow. The words were indistinguishable, but the voice had
an exultant note in it, and Blake said with deep relief, "He has found
the trail."

It was difficult to see the print of Benson's shoes and Harding could
not move a step alone, but they called out at intervals as Blake slowly
helped him along, and at length a shadowy object loomed in front of
them. As they came up Benson pointed to a slight depression.

"We can follow it if it gets no fainter, but there's no time to lose,"
he said. "It might be safer if I went first and kept my eye on the
trail."

He shuffled forward with lowered head while Blake came behind, helping
Harding as best he could, and all three long remembered the next half
hour. Once or twice they lost the trail and were seized with despair,
but searching anxiously they found it again. At length a pale, elusive
light appeared amidst the snow ahead and they saw it grow clearer with
keen satisfaction. When it had changed to a strong yellow glow they
passed a broken white barrier which Blake supposed was a ruined
stockade, and the hazy mass of a building showed against the snow.
Then there was a loud barking of dogs, and while they sought for the
door a stream of light suddenly shone out with a man's dark figure in
the midst of it.

Next minute they entered the house and Harding lurching forward across
the floor of a large room, clutched at a table and then fell with a
crash into a chair. After the extreme cold outside, the air was
suffocatingly hot and, overcome by the change and pain, he leaned back
with flushed face and half closed eyes. His companions stood still,
with the snow thick upon their ragged furs, and the other man shut the
door before he turned to them.

"A rough night," he said calmly