ers must be warned.

Under the inspiration of this resolve she again started forward. She
pressed bravely on her way, wearily dragging her snow-shoes which now
were so heavy. For a few minutes she moved onward. But her strength
was soon spent, and a great weakness swept upon her. She staggered
from side to side, and fought hard to stand upright. She grew
bewildered, and the trees seemed to be whirling around her. The
roaring of the storm overhead sounded like the voice of a demon mocking
at her despair. She could endure it no longer; she felt that she was
going out of her mind.

"Daddy, daddy! Dane, Dane!" she called, but only the wind replied with
a wild shriek to her passionate appeal for help.

Against a great tree she leaned her tired body for support. But it was
of little assistance in her distress. It could not reach out
sheltering arms, neither could it whisper words of comfort and hope.
Gradually her body weakened, drooped, and then like a tired child she
sank upon the snow at the foot of the lordly pine. The wind continued
its roaring in the trees, and the snow sifting down through their
branches whitened the still, huddled form below.

CHAPTER XXVIII

WITHIN THE LONE CABIN

The delay which kept Dane Norwood at Fort Howe as chief witness against
the two rebel leaders was hard for him to endure. He longed to be away
in his search for the missing girl. At times he was like a caged lion
just from the jungle, and threatened bodily harm to a number of
soldiers of the garrison. When at last free, he and Pete lost no time
in heading up the river, straight for the little settlement below Oak
Point. Here he was joyfully received by the Loyalists, and the scraps
of news he was enabled to impart were eagerly received and discussed
for days. He told them of the trial and conviction of Flazeet and
Rauchad, and that their punishment would undoubtedly be very severe.
He related the hardships of the Loyalists who had come to Portland
Point with the fall fleet. Some had gone up river, but others, chiefly
disbanded soldiers, were having a serious time. They had pitched their
tents in a most exposed place, thatched them with spruce boughs, and
banked them with snow. But the suffering was so terrible that numbers
had already died. This was sad news to the settlers, and they
considered themselves fortunate in their comfortable abodes, with
sufficient food and fuel to last them through the hard winte