reatened again in the bigness of mystery when they had
passed. The North was near, threatening, driving the terror of her
tragedy home to the hearts of these staring mechanical plodders, who now
travelled they knew not why, farther and farther into the depths of
dread.

But the dogs stopped, and Billy, the leader, sniffed audibly in inquiry
of what lay ahead. Instantly, in the necessity for action, the spell
broke. The mystery which had lain so long at their horizon, which but
now had crept in, threatening to smother them, rolled back to its
accustomed place. The north withheld her hand.

Before them was another camp, one that had been long used. A conical
tepee or wigwam, a wide space cleared of snow, much debris, racks and
scaffolds for the accommodation of supplies, all these attested long
occupancy.

Sam jerked the cover from his rifle, and cast a hasty glance at the
nipple to see if it was capped. Dick jumped forward and snatched aside
the opening into the wigwam.

"Not at home!" said he.

"Gone," corrected Sam, pointing to a fresh trail beyond.

At once the two men turned their attention to this. After some
difficulty they established the fact of a three-dog team. Testing the
consistency of the snow they proved a heavy load on the toboggan.

"I'm afraid that means he's gone for good," said Sam.

[Illustration: Dick jumped forward and snatched aside the opening into
the wigwam]

A further examination of camp corroborated this. The teepee had been
made double, with the space between the two walls stuffed with moss, so
evidently it had been built as permanent winter quarters. The fact of
its desertion at this time of year confirmed the reasoning as to the
identity of its occupant and the fact of his having been warned by the
dead Chippewa. Skulls of animals indicated a fairly prosperous fur
season. But the skulls of animals, a broken knife, a pile of
balsam-boughs, and the deserted wigwam were all that remained. Jingoss
had taken with him his traps, his pelts, his supplies.

"That's a good thing," concluded Sam, "a mighty good thing. It shows he
ain't much scared. He don't suspect we're anywhere's near him; only that
it ain't very healthy to spend the winter in this part of the country.
If he'd thought we was close, he wouldn't have lugged along a lot of
plunder; he'd be flying mighty light."

"That's right," agreed Dick.

"And in that case he isn't travelling very fast. We'll soon catch up."

"He on