he sled. Bill mushed behind, guided by
the gee-pole. The white-draped trees they had known so well spoke no
word of farewell.

Could they win through? Were they to know the hardship of the journey,
starvation and bitter cold, only to find death in some still, enchanted
glen of the forest that stretched in front? Was fate still jesting with
them, whispering hope only to shatter them with defeat? Were they to
know hunger and exhaustion, pain and travail, until finally their bodies
dropped down and yielded to the cold? They could not keep up long
without the inner fuel of food.

Their chance of finding game seemed hopelessly small, even at first.
Before they reached the frozen river it seemed beyond the possibilities
of miracle. Even the tracks of the little people--such ferocious
hunters as marten and ermine--were gone from the snow. There were no
tracks of caribou or moose; the grouse had seemingly buried in the
drifts. The only creatures that had not hidden away from the winter
cold were the wolves and the coyotes, furtive people that could not be
coaxed into the range of Virginia's pistol. For all her outward
optimism her heart grew heavy with despair.

They crossed the river, coming out where the old moose trail had gone
down the ford. Here they had seen the last of Kenly Lounsbury and
Vosper, almost forgotten now. Virginia told Harold to stop an instant
as she recalled those vents of months before.

"So much has happened since then," she said, "If only they had
left----"

Her words died away in the middle of the sentence, and for a moment she
sat gazing with wide and startled eyes. For all that sight was just
beginning to return to him, Bill was strangely and unexplainably
startled, too, probably sensing the suspense indicated in the girl's
tones. Harold turned, staring.

He could not see what Virginia saw, at first. She pointed, unable to
speak. In a little thicket of young spruce there was a curiously shaped
heap of snow, capped by a done of snow that extended under the
sheltering branches of a young tree. Instantly Harold understood. Some
long bundle had been left there before the snow came; when it had been
thrown down its end had caught in the branches of a young tree where
only a small amount of snow could reach it. "See what it is," Virginia
ordered.

The man drew the sled nearer and with desperate energy began to knock
away the snow. His first discovery was a linen tent,--one tha