was strange and queer she ran forward to it. As
she came nearer, she perceived that it was a streak of barked trunk; a
branch had been torn off a pine tree and the bark stripped down to the
root. And then came another, poking its pinkish wounds above the snow.
And there were chips! This filled her with wonder. Some one had been
cutting wood! There must be Indians or trappers near, she thought, and
of a sudden realized that the wood-cutter could be none other than
herself.

She turned to the right and saw the rocks rising steeply, close at hand.
"Oh Ragg!" she cried, and fired her rifle in the air.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, and then so loud and near it amazed her,
came his answering shot.

In another moment Marjorie had discovered the trail she had made
overnight and that morning by dragging firewood. It was now a shallow,
soft white trench. Instantly her despair and fatigue had gone from her.
Should she take a load of wood with her? she asked herself, in addition
to the weight behind her, and immediately had a better idea. She would
unload and pile her stuff here, and bring him down on the sledge closer
to the wood. The woman looked about and saw two rocks that diverged,
with a space between. She flashed schemes. She would trample the snow
hard and flat, put her sledge on it, pile boughs and make a canopy of
blanket overhead and behind. Finally there would be a fine, roaring
fire in front.

She tossed her provisions down and ran up the broad windings of her
pine-tree trail to Trafford, with the sledge bumping behind her.
Marjorie ran as lightly as though she had done nothing that day.

She found Trafford markedly recovered, weak and quiet, with snow
drifting over his feet, his rifle across his knees, and his pipe alight.
"Back already"--

He hesitated. "No grub?"

The wife knelt over him, gave his rough, unshaven cheek a swift kiss,
and rapidly explained her plan.

Marjorie carried it out with all of the will-power that was hers. In
three days' time, in spite of the snow, in spite of every other
obstacle, they were back in the hut, and Trafford was comfortably
settled in bed. The icy vastness of Labrador still lay around them to
infinite distances on every side, but the two might laugh at storm and
darkness now in their cosy hut, with plenty of fuel and food and light.

H. G. WELLS.

=HELPS TO STUDY=

I. Describe the location of Trafford's camp; also the coming of
winter. Give in your own