.

Even in the shadow of death she was aware of the strong wrench of his
muscles as he swam, the saving might of his powerful frame. She knew
that he was not afraid for himself, but only for her. Even death, with
all its shadow and mystery, had not broken his spirit or bowed his head:
he faced it as he faced the wilderness and the whole dreadful battle of
life,--strongly, quietly, with never-faltering courage. And the girl
found herself partaking of his own strength.

Up to now she had not entered into comradeship with this man. But had
held herself on a different plane. But he was a comrade now; no matter
the outcome, even if they should find the inhospitable Death at the end
of their trial, this relationship could never be destroyed. They fought
the same fight, in the same shadow. Now she would not have to enter the
dark gates of Eternity alone and afraid. Here was a comrade; she knew
the truth at the first touch of his arm. He could buoy up her spirit
with his own.

"If I let go of you, can you hang on to my shoulder?" he asked her.

"Yes----"

He tried to look into her face, to see if she spoke the truth. But the
shadows were almost impenetrable now, and the air was choked with
falling snow.

"Then put your hand on my shoulder. I can't make progress the way I'm
holding you now. I'll try to work in to the nearest shore."

She seized his shoulder, but nearly lost her grasp in a channel of swift
water. Her fingers locked in the cloth of his shirt. And he began, a
little at a time, to cross the sixty feet of wild water between them and
the shore.

He had never been put to a greater test. Every ounce of his strength
was needed. The tendency of the stream was to carry him into the center
of the current, he was heavily clothed and shod, and the girl,
exhausted, was scarcely able to give aid at all. More than once he felt
himself weakening. Once a sharp pain, keen as a knife wound, smote his
thigh, and he was shaken with despair at the thought that swimmer's
cramps--dreaded by all men who know the water--were about to put an
end to the struggle. In the icy depths his bodily heat was flowing from
him in a frightfully rapid stream.

Closer and closer he swam, and at last only thirty feet of fast, deep
water stretched between. But it seemed wholly impossible to make this
last stretch. The sharp pain stabbed him again, and it seemed to him
that his right leg only half responded to the command of