home," Blake said
with forced calm. "We'll know more about it in half an hour; that is,
if you think it worth while to go down."

Harding and Benson were silent a moment, struggling with their
disappointment. They had made a toilsome journey to reach the village,
their food was nearly exhausted, and it would cost them two days to
return to the valley, which was their best road to the south.

"Now that we're here, we may as well spend another hour over the job,"
Harding decided. "It's possible they haven't packed all their food
along."

His companions suspected that they were wasting time, but they followed
him down the hill, until Benson, who was a short distance to one side
of them, called out. When they joined him he indicated a row of
footsteps leading up the slope.

"That fellow hasn't been gone very long; there was snow yesterday," he
said. "By the line he took, he must have passed near us. I wonder why
he stayed on after the others."

Blake examined the footsteps carefully, and compared them with the
impress of his own snowshoes.

"It's obvious that they can't be older than yesterday afternoon," he
said. "From their depth and sharpness, I should judge that the fellow
was carrying a good load, which probably means that he meant to be gone
some time. The stride suggests a white man."

"Clarke," said Harding. "He seems to be up here pretty often; though I
can't see how he'd do much prospecting in the winter."

"It's possible," Blake replied. "But I'm anxious to find out whether
there's anything to eat in the tepees."

They hurried on, and when they reached the village they discovered only
a few skins in the first tent. Then, separating, they eagerly searched
the others without result, and when they met again they were forced to
the conclusion that there was no food in the place. It was about three
o'clock, and a threatening afternoon. The light was dim and a savage
wind blew the snow about. The three men stood with gloomy faces in the
shelter of the largest tepee, feeling that luck was hard against them.

"These northern Indians often have to put up with short rations while
the snow lies," Benson remarked. "No doubt, they set off for some
place where game's more plentiful when they found their grub running
out; and as they've all gone the chances are that they won't come back
soon. We've had our trouble, for nothing, but we may as well camp
here. With a big fire going, one could make thi