the positions
of the enemy, and describing the main features of the situation.
Donald thought that, with good luck and good surfaces, they ought
to make the lake that night. If not, he was prepared to camp in
the woods... In later years, he was sometimes asked why he waited
two weeks in the cabin if the lake was only a day's journey away,
and to this he replied that he was not sure of his bearings or
distances, and had no firearms wherewith to protect himself from
wild beasts, which at this season of the year were hungriest and
boldest. That he had at last decided to go at all was only for the
sake of Jean: he preferred to expose her to the teeth of animals
rather than to the tongues of men.

Although he tempered the speed to Jean's abilities, by noontime
Donald found the girl exhausted, and biting her lips in the effort
to keep up. He at once ordered a halt, and, as quickly as possible,
made a fire and tea, adding to this slender _menu_ boiled fish.
Not until he saw the warm color glow once more in her cheeks did
he cease to ply her with food and drink.

Then, he took the light pack from the little sledge, fastened the
forehead straps around it, and tucked Jean in its place. The crust
had begun to melt shortly before noon, and Mistisi had broken
through. Now, the pathetic animal lay down on his back and held
his feet in the air, "_wooffing_" gently to attract attention. His
master examined him, and found that his foot-cushions were worn
thin, and that the membrane between the toes had broken and bled,
leaving a trail behind.

Here was an opportunity to use some of Jean's primitive needle
work. McTavish took from his pocket four little rabbit-skin dog-shoes,
and tied them on Mistisi's feet with soft thongs of the same
material. The animal, with a bark of pleasure, leaped to his
feet, and was off on the trail before the man could swing his
pack into place.

Then began the final stage. Donald figured that they had done more
than half the distance in the morning, but the breaking crust made
harder going now, and their progress was much slower. Not until
the sun wheeled under the horizon would things solidify again. In
the middle of the morning, they had crossed the main north branch
of the Sachigo River. The middle of the afternoon should bring
them to the westerly tributary that fed this branch. That passed,
only small occasional streams would interrupt their progress to
Sturgeon Lake.

True to reckoning, they f