oked like upsetting all his
calculation.

Once clear of the banked snow-drifts, which rose to the height of the
stockade, they moved rapidly over the crusted surface towards the dark
wall of woods which frowned down upon them in the twilight, and, in a
few moments, the light of the splendid aurora was shut out, and the
myriad of night lights were suddenly extinguished.

"Keep him much close," An-ina cried, her mitted hand grasping Steve by
the arm. "Bimeby him bush go all thick. An-ina know."

They trudged on, and as they proceeded deeper and deeper into the
darkness of the forest, Steve's eyes became accustomed. The snow broke
into patches, and soon they found themselves more often walking over the
underlay of rotting pine cones than the winter carpet of the Northern
world. The temperature, too, rose, and Steve, at least, was glad to
loosen the furs from about his cheeks and nose.

Half an hour of rapid walking proved the squaw's words. The lank
tree-trunks, down aisles of which they had been passing, became lost in
a wealth of dense undergrowth. It was here that the woman paused for her
bearings. But her fault was brief, and in a few moments she picked up
the opening of a distinct but winding pathway. The windings, the
entanglement of the growth which lined it, made the path seem
interminable. But the confidence and decision of his guide left Steve
without the slightest doubt. Presently his confidence was justified.

The path led directly to the entrance of a stoutly constructed
habitation. Even in the darkness Steve saw that the hut exactly occupied
a cleared space. The surrounding bush, in its wild entanglement,
completely overgrew it. The result was an extraordinarily effective
hiding. Only precise knowledge could ever have hoped to discover it.

An-ina paused at the low door and pointed beyond.

"Track him go long way. More hut. Much, plenty. Oh, yes. Much hut. This,
big man chief. All him fam'ly. Come."

She bent low, and passed into the tunnel-like entrance, built of closely
interlaced Arctic willow. A dozen paces or more brought them to a
hanging curtain of skins. The woman raised this, and held it while Steve
passed beyond. A few paces farther on was a second curtain, and An-ina
paused before she raised it.

"So," she said, pointing at it. "All him Sleepers."

Steve understood. And with a queer feeling, almost of excitement, he
waited while the woman cautiously raised the last barrier. He scarcely