he spruce for a wide radius round about--no boughs to make a bed.
They hoisted some tent-poles up into one of the empty caches, laid them
side by side, and on this bed, dry, if hard, they found oblivion.

The next morning a thin, powdery snow was driving about. Had they lost
their way in the calendar as well as on the trail, and was it December
instead of the 29th of March? The Colonel sat on the packed sled,
undoing with stiff fingers the twisted, frozen rope. He knew the axe
that he used the night before on the little end of bacon was lying,
pressed into the snow, under one runner. But that was the last thing to
go on the pack before the lashing, and it wouldn't get lost pinned down
under the sled. Nig caught sight of it, and came over with a cheerful
air of interest, sniffed bacon on the steel, and it occurred to him it
would be a good plan to lick it.

A bitter howling broke the stillness. The Boy came tearing up with a
look that lifted the Colonel off the sled, and there was Nig trying to
get away from the axe-head, his tongue frozen fast to the steel, and
pulled horribly long out of his mouth like a little pink rope. The Boy
had fallen upon the agonized beast, and forced him down close to the
steel. Holding him there between his knees, he pulled off his outer
mits and with hands and breath warmed the surface of the axe, speaking
now and then to the dog, who howled wretchedly, but seemed to
understand something was being done for him, since he gave up
struggling. When at last the Boy got him free, the little horse pressed
against his friend's legs with a strange new shuddering noise very
pitiful to hear.

The Boy, blinking hard, said: "Yes, old man, I know, that was a mean
breakfast; and he patted the shaggy chest. Nig bent his proud head and
licked the rescuing hand with his bleeding tongue.

"An' you say that dog hasn't got feelin's!"

They hitched the team and pushed on. In the absence of a trail, the
best they could do was to keep to the river ice. By-and-bye:

"Can you see the river bank?"

"I'm not sure," said the Boy.

"I thought you were going it blind."

"I believe I'd better let Nig have his head," said the Boy, stopping;
"he's the dandy trail-finder. Nig, old man, I takes off my hat to you!"

They pushed ahead till the half-famished dogs gave out. They camped
under the lee of the propped sled, and slept the sleep of exhaustion.

The next morning dawned clear and warm. The Colonel managed to g