e was lost in a
trackless wilderness, swept by the first fury of an Arctic blizzard.

CHAPTER XXV.

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

So numbed was our poor lad by the shock of his discovery that, for a
few moments, he stood motionless. Of course it would be of no use to
continue his hopeless struggle. Even if he had come in the right
direction he must ere this have passed the place where his companions
were encamped. If he could only regain the timber there might be a
slight chance of surviving the night; but even its location was lost to
him, and a certain death stared him in the face. At any rate it would
be a painless ending, for he had only to lie down to be quickly covered
by a soft blanket of snow. Then he could go to sleep never again to
waken. He was very weary, and already so drowsy that the thought of
sleep was pleasant to him. Such a death would certainly not be so
terrible as drowning after a hopeless struggle with black waters.

With this thought every incident of that awful night after the loss of
the "Lavinia" flashed into his mind. How utterly hopeless had seemed
his situation then and how desperately he had fought for his life. But
he had fought, and had won the fight. What was the use of learning a
lesson of that kind if he could not profit by it? Was not his life as
well worth fighting for now as then? Of course it was; nor was his
present position any more hopeless than that one had been. Then he had
drifted with the wind, and now he would do the same thing. If he could
hold out long enough he would fetch up somewhere sometime. It was
merely a question of endurance. Even in that howling wilderness, with
death on all sides, there were still three chances for life. The drift
with the wind might take him to the igloo that Yim must have built ere
this. How bright, and warm, and cosey its lamplighted interior would
be. How glad they would be to see him, and how he would laugh at all
his recent fears. But of course there was not one chance in a million
of his finding the igloo. It was not at all unlikely, though, that the
drift might take him to a belt of timber, into which the bitter wind
could not penetrate; and where he could crawl under the thick,
low-hanging branches of some tent-like spruce. Even such a shelter now
seemed very desirable, and would be accepted with thankfulness. If he
failed to reach timber, the wind might blow him to some region of
cliffs and rocks that would she