Frenchman's drawn face and loose capote evidenced the weeks
of under-nourishment; but, though Fleur's great bones and the ropes of
muscle, banding her back and shoulders, thrust through her shaggy coat
with undue prominence, still she had as yet suffered little from the
famine. So long as Jean Marcel had had fish or meat, his growing puppy
had received the greater share, for she had already attained in that
winter on the Ghost a height and bulk of bone equal to that of her
slate-gray mother now far on the north coast.

For days Jean had been praying for the coming of the crust. With it he
planned to make a wide circle back into the high barrens in search of
returning caribou. Once the crust had set hard, travelling with the sled
into new country would be easy. Food he must accumulate to take them
through the April thaws, or perish miserably, with no one to carry the
news of their fate to Whale River. Since the heart-breaking days when
the white wolves drove the caribou south and the rabbits disappeared, he
had, in moments of depression, sat by the fire at night, wondering, when
June again came to Whale River and one by one the canoes of the Crees
appeared, if, by chance, a pair of dark eyes would ever turn to the
broad surface of the river for the missing craft of Jean Marcel--whether
in the joy of her love for another the heart of the girl would sadden
for one whose bones whitened in far Ungava hills.

At last the crust came. With eyes shielded by snow goggles made by
cutting slits in flat pieces of spruce, for the glare of the sun on the
barrens was intense, Jean started with his dog. All the food he had was
on his sled. He had burned his bridges, for if he failed in his hunt,
they would starve, but as well starve in the barrens, he thought, as
back at camp.

They were passing through the thick spruce of a sheltered valley,
travelling up-wind, when Fleur, sniffing hard, grew excited. There was
something ahead, probably fur, so he did not tie his dog. Shortly Fleur
started to bolt with the sled and Jean turned her loose. Following his
yelping husky, who broke through the new crust at every leap, Marcel
entered a patch of cedar scrub. There Fleur distanced him.

Shortly, a scream, followed by a din of snarls and squalls filled the
forest. Close ahead a bitter struggle of creatures milling to the death
was on. "Tiens!" exclaimed Jean, fearing for the eyes of his raw puppy,
battling for the first time with the great ca