s a toilsome long way to that hill--feeble and weary as they all
were--but they reached it without having observed the slightest trace of
animal life.

"Up the hill!" cried Lucien, beckoning to the others, and cheering them
with his weak voice, "Up the hill!"

On they went, up the steep declivity--Marengo toiling on after them.
The dog looked downcast and despairing. He really appeared to know the
conditions that had been made for his life. His masters, as they crept
upward, looked sharply before them. Every tuft that appeared above the
snow was scrutinised, and every inch of the ground, as it came into
view, was examined.

At length they crossed the escarpment of the hill, and stood upon the
summit. They gazed forward with disappointed feelings. The hill-top
was a sort of table plain, of about three hundred yards in diameter. It
was covered with snow, nearly a foot in depth. A few heads of withered
grass were seen above the surface, but not enough to subdue the uniform
white that prevailed all over. There was no creature upon it; that was
evident. A bird as big as a sparrow, or a quadruped as large as a
shrew-mouse, could have been seen upon any part of it. A single glance
satisfied all of them that no living thing was there.

They halted without proceeding farther. Some of them could not have
gone another mile, and all of them were tottering in their tracks.
Marengo had arrived upon the summit, and stood a little to one side,
with the sledge behind him.

"_You_ must do it!" said Basil, speaking to Norman in a hoarse voice,
and turning his head away. Lucien and Francois stepped aside at the
same time, and stood as if looking down the hill. The countenances of
all three betokened extreme sorrow. There was a tear in Basil's eye
that he was trying to wipe away with his sleeve.

The sharp click of Norman's gun was heard behind them, and they were all
waiting for the report, when, at that moment, a dark shadow passing over
the white declivity arrested their attention! It was the shadow of a
bird upon the wing. The simultaneous exclamation of all three stayed
Norman's finger--already pressing upon the trigger--and the latter,
turning round, saw that they were regarding some object in the air. It
was a bird of great size--almost as large as an eagle, but with the
plumage of a swan. It was white all over--both body and wings--white as
the snow over which it was sailing. Norman knew the bird at a glance