th a little
child that had snuggled into her arms, had found a forgetfulness that
was a blessing. In spite of her weariness and of the emotions she had
undergone, the good food and pure air had produced some effect upon
her. She slumbered perhaps more deeply and restfully than she had for
many long months. And Hugo Ennis, in pain, tossed in his bunk, his
mind racked with uneasy thoughts and his wounded shoulder throbbing,
till he slept also.

CHAPTER VIII

Doubts

It was with a violent start that Hugo awoke, feeling chilled to the
bone in spite of his heavy blankets. His injured shoulder was so stiff
that for some minutes he was scarcely able to move it. He got out of
his bunk, his whole frame shaking with the cold, and managed to kindle
a fire in the stove. But presently he felt warm again, rather
unaccountably warm, in fact, and his face grew quite red. Curiously
enough, for a man with the vast appetite of hard workers in cold
regions, he did not at all feel inclined to eat. Yet he prepared some
food, according to custom, and sat before a tin pint dipper of strong
hot tea. This he managed to swallow, with some approach to comfort,
but when he tried to eat the first few mouthfuls satiated him and he
pushed the remainder away.

He had opened the door to let Maigan go out, and when the dog returned
after a good roll in the snow Hugo swept his breakfast of rolled oats
and bread into a pan and fed it to his companion.

"You're certainly not going hungry because my own grub doesn't taste
right, old boy," he commented.

Men of the wilderness learn to speak to their dogs, or even to think
out aloud, when no living thing chances to be near. It answers to the
inherited need of speech, to an instinct so long inbred in man that he
must needs, at times, hear the sound of a voice, even if it be but his
own, or go crazy.

Maigan wagged his tail and gobbled up the food. When he saw his master
fastening on his snowshoes he barked loudly. Hugo allowed him to romp
about for a few minutes before hitching him up to the toboggan.

A few minutes later they were on their way to Papineau's. An attempt
to smoke his pipe was immediately abandoned by the young man. For some
reason it tasted wretchedly. While the start was made at a good pace
little more than a couple of hundred yards had been covered before
Hugo realized that he was going ever so slowly. Maigan was stopping
all the time and waiting for him. What on earth was t