rushed on with
the others.

"Now, give me your hand, and we'll see if we can't find
an easier place to cross," said Pasmore to Dorothy.

"It's lucky we've got on moccasins instead, of boots, is
it not?" she said. She seemed to have dropped that old
tone of reserve as completely as she might a cloak from
her shoulders.

She gave him her hand, and they ran up the river alongside
the jagged rent. Two or three bullets whizzed past them
perilously near their heads.

"Why, there's Child-of-Light and Rory!" she cried. "I
suppose they've come to keep back the Indians."'

It was indeed the case. The sight of the advancing Indians
had been too much, for them, and they had come out on
the ice so as to check the foe. Their fire was steadier
than the enemy's, for it did undoubted execution.

Soon Pasmore and Dorothy came to a place that seemed
comparatively narrow, and here they essayed to cross.
The other side seemed a terribly difficult spot on which
to land, and the clear, blue water that ran between looked
deadly cold. Once in there and it would be a hundred
chances to one against getting out.

"I'll jump across first," said Pasmore, "so as to be
ready to catch you on the other side."

He jumped it with little effort, although he fell on the
other side, and then it was Dorothy's turn.

There was a flush on her cheeks and her eyes were strangely
bright as she put one foot on the sharp corner of the
rent, fixed her eyes on him, and sprang. It was a
dangerous and difficult jump for a woman to take, but he
caught her in his strong arms just as she tottered on
the brink, in the act of falling backwards, and drew her
to him.

"Well done!" he cried, "another time I wish you'd come
to me like that!"

"Let us run," she said, ignoring his remark, but without
show of resentment. "Here is Jacques waiting for us with
his sleigh."

And then a tragic thing occurred. The mighty waters of
the Saskatchewan had been gathering force beneath the
ice, and, pressing the great flooring upwards, at length
gained such irresistible power that the whole ice-field
shivered, and was broken up into gigantic slabs, until
it resembled a vast mosaic. The horse attached to Jacques'
sleigh was shot into a great rent, from which it was
impossible to extricate it. They dared not stay a moment
longer if they wished to escape with their lives.

Then far five minutes they held their lives in their
hands, but they proceeded cautiously and surel