"Maybe he wasn't alone," suggested Sam. "I'd hate to have a pack of
foxes come down on me."

"I don't think you'll find any pack around here," answered Jack Wumble.
"They ain't so plentiful. But I'll tell ye what we might run across,
an Alaskan moose--an' they ain't no nice beast to meet at close
quarters."

Some extra brushwood had been gathered before retiring and now a
portion of it was heaped on the fire, so that they might have more
light. The barking and yelping had died away in the distance, and all
around the camp it was as silent as a tomb.

"It's snowing yet," remarked Sam, as he went out to look at the sky.
"But it doesn't seem to be very heavy."

"If only we're not snowed in until after we find Tom!" murmured his
brother.

Gradually the excitement died away and then they laid down to rest once
more. But Dick was nervous and only got into a doze, and he was glad
when morning came.

The sky was now dull and heavy, "jest filled with snow," as Jack Wumble
expressed it. The soft flakes were still coming down, but no thicker
than they had fallen during the night. The ground was covered with
white to a depth of two inches. There was a gentle wind from the
northwest.

"Let us not lose any more time than we can help," said Sam. "In such
weather as this, every minute may count."

"Right ye are," responded the old miner. "We'll have breakfast quick
as we kin an' be off."

Traveling that morning was comparatively easy and they covered quite a
number of miles. But then they commenced to climb the mountain leading
to Lion Head and Twin Rocks and progress became more difficult.

"Some work, eh, Sam?" remarked Dick, after they had helped each other
over some slippery rocks on the trail.

"Do you think Tom and his companion got over these, Dick?"

"I suppose they did. It's the only thing that looks like a trail
around here. If they didn't stick to this they'd soon become lost.
And being lost on a mountain isn't very nice--you know that."

The snow was still coming down, and to the boys it seemed heavier than
before. Jack Wumble looked at the sky many times and shook his head
slowly.

"We'll be in fer it by to-morrow," he said. "An' then nobuddy can tell
how long it will keep up. Winter is comin' sure!"

"Then the sooner we find Tom and get back to Dawson with him the
better."

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when they reached a spot
where the trail ran along the bottom of a