th fatherly
solicitude forebore to question her farther.

A peculiar noise outside startled them.

"What's that?" exclaimed Constance.

"The wind," replied her father, "or else a prowling dog."

When, however, the pounding upon the door began both sprang to their
feet, and with fast-beating hearts crossed the room. Then when the
door was opened and Keith, weary, ragged and blood-stained, staggered
into the building, they stared in amazement. They listened
speechlessly to his brief message, gasped forth in quick, short
syllables, and before they had recovered from their astonishment he was
gone.

Constance was the first to realize the situation. "Quick, father!" she
cried, reaching for her cloak and hood. "We must leave the cabin! The
flood is coming! Hurry!"

"But I don't think it will reach us, Connie. We are too high up. But
what about the miners?"

By this time Constance was out of the house, listening to the dull,
ominous roar, sounding down through the darkness. She shivered and
drew the cloak more closely around her shoulders. How weird it all
seemed! Oh, if the night would only pass and give the blessed daylight!

"Connie," said her father, who had joined her, "I think we had better
cross to the higher ground by the Indian encampment. We must not run
any risk, and, besides, we may learn how the miners are faring."

Together they made their way through the night, along the rough trail,
and after much stumbling reached the Indian village. Here they paused
and listened. No light was to be seen, and no human voice could they
hear. The camp was deserted.

"Let us go farther," suggested Mr. Radhurst. "We may find out
something lower down."

Through the midst of the lodges they moved for several hundred yards
along the high bank of the Kaslo. The waters were now surging
tumultuously on their left. They could hear the ice groaning and
tearing in its onward sweep, but could see nothing. When the last
house had been reached they stood straining their eyes in an effort to
pierce the darkness.

"What's that?" cried Constance, grasping her father's arm more firmly.

"I heard nothing but the waters," was the reply.

"But I did, father, and it sounded like a shout far ahead. Oh, let us
go on along the bank! I am afraid something terrible has happened!"

They had groped their way but a short distance when a light fell upon
their eyes. Small at first, it soon grew larger, and then they kne