ey wuz. But I
see I won't hev no chance to git on with my lit'ry pursuits, so I think
I'll jest do chores about the house inside."

He went to work in the best of spirits. Will had seldom seen a happier
man. He fixed shelves in the stone, arranged the materials from their
packs, and all the time he whistled airs, until the cavern seemed to be
filled with the singing of nightingales, mocking birds and skylarks.
Will and Boyd began to help him, though Will stopped at times to look
out.

On every occasion he reported that the snow was still drifting down in a
steady, thick, white stream, and that he could not see more than thirty
or forty yards from the door. About eleven o'clock in the morning, when
he pulled the bearskin aside for perhaps the sixth time, he heard a
sound which at first he took to be the distant moan of the wind through
a gorge. But he had not heard it on his previous visits, although the
wind had been blowing all the morning, and he stood there a little
while, listening. As he did not hear it again just yet, he thought his
fancy had deceived him, but in a minute or so the sound came once more.
It was a weird note, carrying far, but he seemed to detect a human
quality in it. And yet what human being could be out there in that lone
mountain valley in the wild snow storm? It seemed impossible, but when
he heard it a third time the human quality seemed stronger. He beckoned
to the hunter and Little Giant.

"Come here," he said, "and tell me if my imagination is playing tricks
with me. It seems to me that I've heard a human voice in the storm."

The two came to the doorway and, standing beside him, listened. Once
more Will discerned that note and he turned an inquiring face to them.

"There!" he exclaimed. "Did you hear it? It sounded to me like a man's
voice!"

Neither Boyd nor Bent replied until the call came once more and then
Boyd said:

"It's not your imagination, Will. It's a man out there in the snow, and
he's shouting for help. Why he should expect anybody to come to his aid
in a place like this is more'n I can understand."

"He's drawin' nearer," said the Little Giant. "I kin make out the word
'hello' said over an' over ag'in. Maybe Felton's band has wandered on a
long chase into our valley, an' it's some o' them lost from the others
in the storm, callin' to em."

"Like as not," said the hunter. "The snow has covered up most of the
traces and trails we've left, and anyway they couldn't rus