nd the boy slept on. The white
mist dissolved. The sun poured down beams brilliantly cold and
hard, and over them was the loom of the mountains, but the boy
knew nothing of them, nor cared.

The fires ceased to flame and became great masses of glowing
coals that would endure long. The alcove was filled with the
grateful warmth, and when the sun was in the zenith, Dick still
slept, drawing long, regular breaths from a deep strong chest.
The afternoon grew and waned, twilight came over the desolate
snow fields, the loom of the mountains was gone, and the twilight
gave way to an icy night.

When Dick awoke it was quite dark, save for the heaps of coals
which still glowed and threw out warmth. He felt at first a
little wonderment that he had slept so long, but he was not
alarmed. His forethought and energy had provided plenty of wood
and he threw on fresh billets. Once more the flames leaped up to
brighten and to cheer, and Dick, walking to the edge of his snow
bank, looked over. The wind had piled up the snow there
somewhat higher before the surface froze, and across the barrier
he gazed upon some such scene as one might behold near the North
Pole. He seemed to be looking over ice fields that stretched
away to infinity, and the wind certainly had a voice that was a
compound of chill and desolation.

It was so solemn and weird that Dick was glad to duck down again
into his den, and resume the seat where he had slept so long. He
ate a little and then tried to slumber again, but he had already
slept so much that he remained wide awake. He opened his eyes
and let them stay open, after several vain efforts.

The moonlight now came out with uncommon brilliancy and the
plain glittered. But it was the coldest moon that Dick had
ever seen. He began to feel desolate and lonely again, and,
since he could not sleep, he longed for something to do.
Then the knowledge came to him. He put on fresh wood, and
between firelight and moonlight he could see everything
clearly.

Satisfied with his light, Dick took from his pocket the History
of the United States that was accompanying him so strangely in
his adventures, and began to study it. He looked once more at
the map of the Rocky Mountain territories, and judged that he was
in Southern Montana. Although his curiosity as to the exact spot
in which he lay haunted him, there was no way to tell, and
turning the leaves away from the map, he began to read.

It was chance