that had held him up so long,
deserted the young man, and he wavered where he stood, shading his
eyes across an open space.

"What do you see, Peter?" he gasped, sitting down abruptly, for
very weakness.

The Indian stood gazing for a long time in silence.

"Far off, I see a shanty and a dog-train in front of it," he said,
slowly. "And, now, I see smoke coming from the chimney."

"How many people are there?" cried Donald excitedly, getting to
his feet again. "Tell me, quick! How many?

"That I cannot see," answered the Indian, after a moment's piercing
scrutiny.

"Mush! Mush on!" cried McTavish, curling the long whip over the
dogs' backs, and once more the mad race was under way.

Over the smooth, glazed crust, into low, powdery drifts, under
windfalls or around them, down the forest aisles, or across bare,
open spaces, they whirled, the men at a tireless, gliding lope,
the dogs at a fast trot.

Nearer came the shanty and its curl of smoke. Now, it was but a
quarter of a mile away, and the going was all down-hill and clear.
The men jumped aboard the sledge, and called to the dogs, which
responded by breaking into a gallop. Thus silently, without bells,
the equipage descended upon the unknown travelers in the shanty.

A hundred yards away, the strange dogs sounded the alarm, and, ten
seconds later, Donald's team was engaged in a free fight that
threatened to put an end to every strip of harness.

While Peter Rainy stayed to separate the combatants, Donald sprang
off, and rushed ahead to the shanty. At that moment, two persons
stepped out of the door, a man and a woman.

Even at fifty yards, there could be no doubt as to their identity:
They were the old hag Maria and her Indian son, Tom.

CHAPTER XII

MARIA TAKES ACTION

"Good-evening," said Donald, courteously, in the Ojibway tongue.
With all his impatience, he knew better than to be precipitate.
Tom and Maria responded in kind to his salutation, and the usual
amenities of those who find themselves at a camping-place together
were exchanged. Of course, the newcomers would not think of occupying
the cabin, since the others had reached it first, even though
Donald's rank in the Hudson Bay Company entitled him to the best
to be had.

They were fortunate, he said, in the locating of such an admirable
shelter; in fact, it was one of the best he had seen, warm, well
made, with room for the dogs. Whose was it? They told him an Indian
name, and he c