through the now calm atmosphere. Looking
down, he saw that Peter and Regnar had got safely across the chasm, and
almost despairing of the fate of his party, he followed down the rude
steps, and across the treacherous bridge.

Letting the line slacken a little, Regnar gave a deft whirl, which cast
off the bight from the rock, and the party, dragging behind them their
prize, retraced their path amid what soon became a blinding snow-squall.
Luckily their track had been through deep snow, and therefore not easily
covered up; for when they reached their own island of refuge, they could
see scarce a rod in any direction.

Regnar dragged his prize to the little enclosure, and, pointing to the
snow-flake, said,--

"Soon they grow larger, softer, then turn to rain. Then this skin and
our boat must cover us, for the snow-water will spoil our house."

At that moment a flaw from the westward bore on its wings a repetition
of the sounds they had heard in the morning, but nearer and more
distinct than before. Heavily, measured, and mournfully, came the tones
of the great bell, as the storm-vapors shut down closer, and the west
wind blew fiercer across the icebound sea.

"They toll for the dead," said Regnar.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE PACK OPENS.--MYSTERIOUS MURMURS.--LOVE SCENES AND SOUNDS.

All day long the snow fell heavily, and although the wind blew with no
great violence, it was evidently increasing their drift eastward into
the open Gulf. At night the temperature was perceptibly higher, and as
they gathered around the light of the rude brazier in the centre of
their ice-cave, each for the first time opened his heavy outer clothing,
and felt the cool zephyrs that, from time to time, found their way
through the door curtain, to be a welcome visitant.

The fire had melted a deep hollow in the centre, which was naturally the
lowest part of the floor, and Peter quietly arose, and bringing in the
axe, cut a narrow but deep gutter out through the doorway. Reverently
that night the little group bowed their heads as Waring, with his sweet
voice, led the singing of one of the old familiar hymns, dear alike to
Churchman and Dissenter, and La Salle prayed that the hand of the
Father might be with them in their coming trials.

For already the boat had received her scanty store of food and fuel,
their weapons stood close at hand, a pile of cooked meats was cooling
near the door, and all knew that a few hours might again find the