h a grove of trees near a stream at their foot, but the stream
was frozen over, and the hills and trees covered thickly with snow.

As we were looking round for a spot on which to pitch our tent, we heard
Pat, who was at a little distance, shout out, "Here's an Injin wigwam;
maybe the owner will give us some food." On reaching it, however, we
found that the wigwam contained no inhabitants. There were, however,
several articles within, the household goods of a native--a pot, wallet,
basket, buffalo-robe, and other things.

At first we thought that the owner had gone out hunting, and would soon
return, but on a further examination we were satisfied that it had been
deserted for several days, or perhaps weeks. Too probably, the
unfortunate man had lost his life, either killed by a bear or a human
enemy, or, unable to obtain game, had perished from hunger.

Alick suggested that the occupants might have died of some disease, and
that it would be prudent to pitch our tent and sleep in that, rather
than in the wigwam.

Having cut some wood, we lighted a fire and chopped up the thongs of
Pat's sledge to make some soup. Though very unpalatable, it would serve
to keep us alive; it, at all events, stopped the gnawings of hunger and
enabled us to go to sleep.

We were awakened towards the morning by the howling of the wind amid the
leafless trees and the falling of the snow from the branches. Looking
out of the tent, we could scarcely bear the chilling blast, which drove
the particles of snow like pins and needles into our faces much as
spoondrift is driven from off the waves of the ocean.

To proceed on our journey was impossible. We dared not even light a
fire near the tent, lest it might be destroyed by the flames driven
against it by any sudden change of wind. All that day we sat helpless
and disconsolate. Martin, who had held out bravely hitherto, began to
give way.

"Oh! I must have some food," he murmured, "or I shall die."

He repeated this several times.

Alick at length, seizing his gun, started up. I thought he was going
out in spite of the bitter weather to search for game, but I saw him put
his hand on Bouncer's head and lead him forth.

He had got a short distance from the tent when we overtook him.

"It must be done," he said; "Bouncer must die. I cannot sit by and see
that poor boy perish. What should we say to his father and mother,
should we again meet them, or to Rose?"

I felt as he did