u are in my hands until we reach
level ground," he replied. "In the meanwhile I should like you to put
on this jacket."

He held out the warm deerhide garment, and the girl flashed a covert
glance at him. He stood close by her in loose blue shirt and thin duck
trousers, and, as far as she could see by the moonlight, his face was
pinched and blue with cold.

"I won't," she said.

Weston pursed up his face whimsically. He seldom shone where diplomacy
was advisable. As a rule, he endeavored to bring about the end he had
in view by the most direct means available. In the present instance he
felt very compassionate toward his companion, and recognized only the
necessity of getting her back to camp, where there was food and
shelter, as soon as possible. Still, it not infrequently happened that
his severely simple procedure proved successful.

"Well," he said, "since I don't intend to wear it we'll leave it here.
I'll leave you for a minute or two while I prospect for an easier
route than the one by which I came up."

He flung down the jacket, and, striding away, disappeared, while Ida
shivered as she glanced about her. She could no longer see the shelter
she had left, and she stood alone in the midst of a tremendous
desolation of rock and snow, with the valley yawning, a vast dusky
pit, beneath her feet. It was appallingly lonely, and she was numb
with cold, while, since she was sure that she could not climb back to
her companions unassisted, there was only one person on whom she could
rely, and that was the packer, who had insisted on her doing what he
thought fit. When he came back she had put on the jacket, but he had
sense enough to make no sign of having noticed it.

"I can see our way for the next few hundred feet," he said.

The way did not prove an easy one, but they went down, with the gravel
sliding beneath them, and now and then a mass of debris they had
loosened rushing past. It occurred to Ida that Weston limped somewhat
awkwardly, and once or twice she fancied that she saw his face
contract as they scrambled over some shelf of jutting stone; but they
pushed on cautiously until they came to a precipitous descent. Ida sat
down gasping, when her companion stopped, and gazed with an
instinctive shrinking into the gulf below. She could now see the
climbing pines, black beneath the moon, and the river shining far away
in the midst of them, but they seemed to go straight down. She was
very weary, and scarcely