White Guard."

Under the bronze of the sub-factor's face there spread a glow more
red than brown, and he said simply: "Thank you, men"--for they had all
nodded assent to Jeff Hyde's words--"come with me to the store. We will
start at noon."

At noon the White Guard stood in front of the store on which the British
flag was hoisted with another beneath it bearing the magic letters,
H.B.C.: magic, because they opened to the world regions that seemed
destined never to know the touch of civilisation. The few inhabitants of
the fort were gathered at the store; the dogs and loaded sleds were at
the door. It wanted but two minutes to twelve when Hume came from his
house, dressed also in the white blanket costume, and followed by his
dog, Bouche. In a moment more he had placed Bouche at the head of the
first team of dogs. They were to have their leader too. Punctually at
noon, Hume shook hands with the factor, said a quick good-bye to the
rest, called out a friendly "How!" to the Indians standing near, and
to the sound of a hearty cheer, heartier perhaps because none had a
confident hope that the five would come back, the march of the White
Guard began.

III

It was eighteen days after. In the shadow of a little island of pines,
that lies in a shivering waste of ice and snow, the White Guard were
camped. They were able to do this night what they had not done for
days--dig a great grave of snow, and building a fire of pine wood
at each end of this strange house, get protection and something like
comfort. They sat silent close to the fires. Jaspar Hume was writing
with numbed fingers. The extract that follows is taken from his diary.
It tells that day's life, and so gives an idea of harder, sterner days
that they had spent and must yet spend, on this weary journey.

December 25th.--This is Christmas Day and Camp twenty-seven. We
have marched only five miles to-day. We are eighty miles from Great
Fish River, and the worst yet to do. We have discovered no signs.
Jeff Hyde has had a bad two days with his frozen foot. Gaspe
Toujours helps him nobly. One of the dogs died this morning.
Bouche is a great leader. This night's shelter is a god-send.
Cloud-in-the-Sky has a plan whereby some of us will sleep well. We
are in latitude 63deg 47' and longitude 112deg 32' 14". Have worked
out lunar observations. Have marked a tree JH/27 and raised cairn
No. 3.

We are able to celebrate Christmas Day