ark of their light, moccasined feet. Had the pursuer been
an Indian, the well-known sagacity of the race in following a trail,
however slight, might have enabled him to trace the route of the party;
but the Esquimaux are unpractised in this stealthy, dog-like quality.
Their habits and the requirements of their condition render it almost
unnecessary; so that, in difficult circumstances, their sagacity in this
respect is not equal to the emergency. Add to this the partial
confusion created in the young giant's brain by his wound, and it will
not appear strange that despair at length seized him, when, after a
severe journey, he arrived at a spot where, as it were, half a dozen
cross-roads met, and he had not the most distant idea which he had to
follow. It is true the valley of the river seemed the most probable
route; but after pursuing this for a whole day without coming upon a
vestige of the party, he gave up the pursuit, and, returning to the
spring beside the rock, passed the night there with a heavy heart. When
the sun rose on the following morning he quitted his lair, and, taking a
long draught at the bubbling spring, prepared to depart. Before setting
out, he cast a melancholy glance around the amphitheatre of gloomy
hills; shook his spear, in the bitterness of his heart, towards the dark
recesses which had swallowed up the light of his eyes, perchance for
ever; then, turning slowly towards the north, with drooping head, and
with the listless tread of a heart-broken man, he retraced his steps to
the sea-coast, and, rejoining his comrades, was soon far away from the
banks of the Caniapuscaw River.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

END OF THE VOYAGE--PLANS AND PROSPECTS--EXPLORING PARTIES SENT OUT.

Three weeks alter the departure of the Esquimaux from the neighbourhood
of Ungava Bay, the echoes of these solitudes were awakened by the merry
song of the Canadian voyageurs, as the two canoes of Stanley and his
comrades swept down the stream and approached the spring at the foot of
the flat rock.

As the large canoe ran its bow lightly on the sand, the first man who
leaped ashore was La Roche. He seemed even more sprightly and active
than formerly, but was a good deal darker in complexion, and much
travel-stained. Indeed, the whole party bore marks of having roughed it
pretty severely for some time past among the mountains. Edith's face
was decidedly darker than when she left Moose, and her short frock
considerably sho