m. Then he said: "Be sure and keep
that flying."

Jeff's face was turned towards the north. The blindman's instinct
was coming to him. Far off white eddying drifts were rising over long
hillocks of snow. When he turned round again his face was troubled. It
grew more troubled, then it brightened up again, and he said to Hume:
"Captain, would you leave that book with me till you come back--that
about infirmities, dangers, and necessities? I knew a river-boss who
used to carry an old spelling-book round with him for luck. It seems to
me as if that book of yours, Captain, would bring luck to this part of
the White Guard, that bein' out at heels like has to stay behind."

Hume had borne the sufferings of his life with courage; he had led this
terrible tramp with no tremor at his heart for himself; he was seeking
to perform a perilous act without any inward shrinking; but Jeff's
request was the greatest trial of this critical period in his life.

Jeff felt, if he could not see, the hesitation of his chief. His rough
but kind instincts told him something was wrong, and he hastened to add:
"Beg your pardon, Mr. Hume, it ain't no matter. I oughtn't have asked
you for it. But it's just like me. I've been a chain on the leg of the
White Guard this whole tramp."

The moment of hesitation had passed before Jeff had said half-a-dozen
words, and Hume put the book in his hands with the words: "No, Jeff,
take it. It will bring luck to the White Guard. Keep it safe until I
come back."

Jeff took the book, but hearing a guttural "Ugh" behind him, he turned
round defiantly. Cloud-in-the-Sky touched his arm and said: "Good!
Strong-back book--good!" Jeff was satisfied.

At this point they parted, Jeff and Gaspe Toujours remaining, and Hume
and his two followers going on towards Manitou Mountain. There seemed
little probability that Clive Lepage would be found. In their progress
eastward and northward they had covered wide areas of country, dividing
and meeting again after stated hours of travel, but not a sign had been
seen; neither cairn nor staff nor any mark of human presence.

Hume had noticed Jeff Hyde's face when it was turned to the eddying
drifts of the north, and he understood what was in the experienced
huntsman's mind. He knew that severe weather was before them, and that
the greatest danger of the journey was to be encountered.

That night they saw Manitou Mountain, cold, colossal, harshly calm; and
jointly with that sig