and into which they crept.

"I wonder what's up?" asked Charley, no little excited by the
occurrence.

"I'm not knowin'. Maybe 'tis some game they sees. 'Tis not like that
Marks would be bidin' hereabouts. He sure went on to Dyson's or Slade's,
whatever," answered Toby, no less mystified than was Charley.

Not more than fifteen minutes had passed, though it seemed to the boys
much longer, when they saw the Indians returning, and when they joined
them at the komatik Amishku held out the silver fox pelt to Toby.

"We got the silver fox skin for our friend, and we are glad," said
Amishku, in high good humour. "The man who stole it will never steal
again."

"You--don't mean--you--killed him?" asked Toby, suddenly sorry that he
had permitted the Indians to come, and so horrified at the thought that
the Indians might have done such a thing for him that he could scarcely
speak.

"No," answered Amishku. "His dogs kill him. The dogs are there. The
sledge is there. Not much of the man is there."

"The gray dog!" exclaimed Toby.

They drove their team nearer to the scene of the tragedy. A horrible
thing met their view, and they quickly turned from it--blood-stained
snow, pieces of torn clothing, and other evidences of the tragedy that
had taken place.

The gray dog and his mates were still held in leash by their harness,
and Toby decided that they should drive on to Aaron Slade's cabin to
tell him what had happened and to ask his assistance. And when they
reached Aaron's and he had listened to their story, he said:

"I'll drive my team over and take care of un, lads. 'Tis no job for lads
like you."

XXVI

THE END OF THE FIX

March, with its sudden blizzards and terrific gales passed. Mid-April
came, and Toby and Charley, with dogs and komatik, met Skipper Zeb at
Black River tilt, when he appeared again out of the silent wilderness
with the harvest of his labours, and his winter's trapping was ended.

How happy they were when Skipper Zeb was home again. It was pleasant to
hear his big voice and his jolly laugh booming about the cabin. He was
always an optimist, and he always made every one feel that everything
was all right.

"Well, now! Here we are all safe and sound and snug! The winter gone,
and nothin' to worry about, but a wonderful lot to be thankful to the
Lard for!"

The days were long now, and with the coming of May the sun began to
assert his strength. The snow softened at midday, and sealsk