his home, of the beauty and the goodness
of his wife, and of a third member whom they expected in their little
family circle in the spring. They discussed home topics--politics, clubs
and sport. The doctor disliked society, though for professional reasons
he was compelled to play a small part in it, and in this dislike the
two men found themselves on common ground. They became more and more
confidential in all ways but one. They passed hours in playing cribbage
with a worn pack of Pierre's cards, and the third night sang old college
songs which both had nearly forgotten. It was on this evening that they
planned to remain one more day in Pierre's cabin and then leave for Fort
Smith.

"You have hope--there," said Philip in a casual way, as they were
undressing.

"Little hope, but the search will begin from there," replied the doctor.
"I have more hope at Chippewayan, where we struck a clew. I sent back my
Indian to follow it up."

They went to bed. How long he had slept Philip had no idea, when he was
awakened by a slight noise. In a sub-conscious sort of way, with his
eyes still closed, he lay without moving and listened. The sound came
again, like the soft, cautious tread of feet near him. Still without
moving he opened his eyes. The oil lamp which he had put out on retiring
was burning low. In its dim light stood the doctor, half dressed, in a
tense attitude of listening.

"What's the matter?" asked Philip.

The professor started, and turned toward the stove.

"Nervousness, I guess," he said gloomily. "I was afraid I would awaken
you. I've been up three times during the last hour--listening for a
voice."

"A voice?"

"Yes, back there in the bunk I could have sworn that I heard it calling
somewhere out in the night. But when I get up I can't hear it. I've
stood at the door until I'm frozen."

"It's the wind," said Philip. "It has troubled me many times out on the
snow plains. I've heard it wail like children crying among the dunes,
and again like women screaming, and men shouting. You'd better go to
bed."

"Listen!" The doctor stiffened, his white face turned to the door.

"Good Heavens, was that the wind?" he asked after a moment.

Philip had rolled from his bunk and was pulling on his clothes.

"Dress and we'll find out," he advised.

Together they went to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. The
sky was thick and heavy, with only a white blur where the moon was
smothered. Fifty yards away the