ing-furs spread in a single bed
on a mat of spruce boughs; behind the bed an oblong of canvas stretched
to refract the heat. Daw fed the dogs and chopped ice and firewood.
Linday's cheeks burned with frost-bite as he squatted over the cooking.
They ate heavily, smoked a pipe and talked while they dried their
moccasins before the fire, and turned in to sleep the dead sleep of
fatigue and health.

Morning found the unprecedented cold snap broken. Linday estimated the
temperature at fifteen below and rising. Daw was worried. That day would
see them in the canyon, he explained, and if the spring thaw set in the
canyon would run open water. The walls of the canyon were hundreds to
thousands of feet high. They could be climbed, but the going would be
slow.

Camped well in the dark and forbidding gorge, over their pipe that
evening they complained of the heat, and both agreed that the
thermometer must be above zero--the first time in six months.

"Nobody ever heard tell of a panther this far north," Daw was saying.
"Rocky called it a cougar. But I shot a-many of 'em down in Curry
County, Oregon, where I come from, an' we called 'em panther. Anyway, it
was a bigger cat than ever I seen. It was sure a monster cat. Now how'd
it ever stray to such out of the way huntin' range?--that's the
question."

Linday made no comment. He was nodding. Propped on sticks, his moccasins
steamed unheeded and unturned. The dogs, curled in furry balls, slept in
the snow. The crackle of an ember accentuated the profound of silence
that reigned. He awoke with a start and gazed at Daw, who nodded and
returned the gaze. Both listened. From far off came a vague disturbance
that increased to a vast and sombre roaring. As it neared,
ever-increasing, riding the mountain tops as well as the canyon depths,
bowing the forest before it, bending the meagre, crevice-rooted pines on
the walls of the gorge, they knew it for what it was. A wind, strong and
warm, a balmy gale, drove past them, flinging a rocket-shower of sparks
from the fire. The dogs, aroused, sat on their haunches, bleak noses
pointed upward, and raised the long wolf howl.

"It's the Chinook," Daw said.

"It means the river trail, I suppose?"

"Sure thing. And ten miles of it is easier than one over the tops." Daw
surveyed Linday for a long, considering minute. "We've just had fifteen
hours of trail," he shouted above the wind, tentatively, and again
waited. "Doc," he said finally, "are y