had never seen such a face as this before her now. Its
lines were deep and incredibly dark: utter fatigue was inscribed upon
the drawn features and in the dark, dull eyes. She was suddenly shaken
with horror at the thought that perhaps she was looking upon the first
shadow of death itself.

He had cut the kindling with his knife, inserted the candle end, and a
little blaze danced up. She watched him feed the fire with strange,
heavy motions. He took a pan down from the wall, then went out into the
darkness.

Haunted by fears, it seemed to her she waited endless hours for him to
return again. When he came the pan was filled with water from a little
stream that flowed behind the cabin. He put it on the stove to heat.

She dozed off, then wakened to find him sitting on the edge of her bed,
holding a cup of some steaming liquid. Vaguely she noticed that he had
taken off his wet clothes and had put on a worn overcoat that had been
hanging back of the stove, wrapping two thick blankets over this. He
put his left arm behind her and lifted her up, then fed her spoonfuls of
the hot liquid. She didn't know what it was, other than it contained
whisky.

"Take some of it yourself," she told him at last.

He shook his head and smiled,--a wistful yet manly smile that almost
brought tears to her eyes. That smile was the last thing that she
remembered. The warm, kindly liquor stole through her veins, and she
dropped into heavy slumber.

* * * * *

In the stress of that first hour after the disaster of the river,
Lounsbury and Vosper had a chance to test the steel of which they were
made. This was the time for inner strength, and courage, and beyond all
things else, for self-discipline. But only the forest creatures, such
little folk as watch with beady eyes from the coverts all the drama of
the wilderness, beheld how they stood that test.

For the first few seconds Lounsbury sat upon his horse and simply stared
in mute horror. Then he half-climbed, half-fell from the saddle, and
followed by Vosper, started running down the river bank. Immediately he
lost sight of Virginia and Bill. Almost at once thereafter the cold and
the darkness got into his spirit and appalled him.

"They're lost, they're lost," he cried. "There's not a chance on earth
to get 'em out."

The branches tripped him and he fell sprawling in the snow. He got up
and hastened on. Vosper, his thews turning to mushroom stalks within
him, could