ink--I feel--that Harold is watching it too.
Somewhere over this snow."

Bill did not answer, and the girl turned to him in tremulous appeal.

"Won't you find him for me, Bill?" she cried. "You are so strong, so
capable--you can do anything, anything you try. Won't you find him
and bring him back to me?"

The man looked down at her, and his face was ashen. Perhaps it was only
the effect of the Northern Lights that made his eyes seem so dark and
strange.

XIII

One clear, icy night a gale sprang up in the east, and Virginia and Bill
fell to sleep to the sound of its complaint. It swept like a mad thing
through the forest, shattering down the dead snags, shaking the snow
from the limbs of the spruce, roaring and soughing in the tree tops, and
blustering, like an arrogant foe, around the cabin walls. And when Bill
went forth for his morning's woodcutting he found that his snowshoes did
not break through the crust.

The wind had blown and crusted the drifts during the night. But it did
not mean that he and his companion could start at once down the
settlements. The crust was treacherous and possibly only temporary.
The clouds had overspread again, and any moment the snowfall might
recommence. The fact remained, however, that it was the beginning of
the end. Probably in a few more weeks, perhaps days, it would be safe
to start their journey. Bill was desolated by the thought.

The morning, however, could not be wasted. It permitted him to make a
dash over to a certain stream further down toward the Yuga River in
search of any sign of the lost mine. The stream itself was frozen to
blue steel, and the snow had covered it to the depth of several feet,
but there might be blazes on the trees or the remnants of a broken cabin
to indicate the location of the lost claim. He had searched this
particular stream once before, but it was one of the few remaining
places that he hadn't literally combed from the springs out of which it
flowed to its mouth. He started out immediately after breakfast.

It was not to be, however, that Bill should make the search that day.
When about two miles from the cabin he saw, through a rift in the
distant trees, a distinct trail in the snow.

It was too far to determine what it was. Likely it was only the track
of a wild animal,--a leaping caribou that cut deep into the drifts, or
perhaps a bear, tardy in hibernating. No one could blame him, he
thought, if he didn't go to i