htly about him,
made sure of his hood by fastening it to his head with a
handkerchief, and raised the canvas.

The opening was entirely obstructed by a resisting snow. Penellan
took his staff, and succeeded in plunging it into the compact
mass; but terror froze his blood when he perceived that the end
of the staff was not free, and was checked by a hard body!

"Cornbutte," said he to the captain, who had come up to him, "we
are buried under this snow!"

"What say you?" cried Jean Cornbutte.

"I say that the snow is massed and frozen around us and over us,
and that we are buried alive!"

"Let us try to clear this mass of snow away," replied the
captain.

The two friends buttressed themselves against the obstacle which
obstructed the opening, but they could not move it. The snow
formed an iceberg more than five feet thick, and had become
literally a part of the house. Jean could not suppress a cry,
which awoke Misonne and Vasling. An oath burst from the latter,
whose features contracted. At this moment the smoke, thicker than
ever, poured into the house, for it could not find an issue.

"Malediction!" cried Misonne. "The pipe of the stove is sealed up
by the ice!"

Penellan resumed his staff, and took down the pipe, after
throwing snow on the embers to extinguish them, which produced
such a smoke that the light of the lamp could scarcely be seen;
then he tried with his staff to clear out the orifice, but he
only encountered a rock of ice! A frightful end, preceded by a
terrible agony, seemed to be their doom! The smoke, penetrating
the throats of the unfortunate party, caused an insufferable
pain, and air would soon fail them altogether!

Marie here rose, and her presence, which inspired Cornbutte with
despair, imparted some courage to Penellan. He said to himself
that it could not be that the poor girl was destined to so
horrible a death.

"Ah!" said she, "you have made too much fire. The room is full of
smoke!"

"Yes, yes," stammered Penellan.

"It is evident," resumed Marie, "for it is not cold, and it is
long since we have felt too much heat."

No one dared to tell her the truth.

"See, Marie," said Penellan bluntly, "help us get breakfast
ready. It is too cold to go out. Here is the chafing-dish, the
spirit, and the coffee. Come, you others, a little pemmican
first, as this wretched storm forbids us from hunting."

These words stirred up his comrades.

"Let us first eat," added Penellan, "and