ired new strength. Through
days of dreadful cold, through nights of appalling fierceness, through
storm upon the plains that made for them paralysing coverlets, they
marched. And if Lepage did not grow stronger, life at least was kept in
him.

There was little speech among them, but once in a while Gaspe Toujours
sang snatches of the songs of the voyageurs of the great rivers; and
the hearts of all were strong. Between Bouche and his master there was
occasional demonstration. On the twentieth day homeward, Hume said with
his hand on the dog's head "It had to be done, Bouche; even a dog could
see that."

And so it was "all right" for the White Guard. One day when the sun was
warmer than usual over Fort Providence, and just sixty-five days since
that cheer had gone up from apprehensive hearts for brave men going out
into the Barren Grounds, Sergeant Gosse, who, every day, and of late
many times a day, had swept the north-east with a field-glass, rushed
into the chief-factor's office, and with a broken voice cried: "They've
all come! They've come!" Then he leaned his arm and head against the
wall and sobbed. And the old factor rose from his chair tremblingly, and
said his thank-god, and went hurriedly into the square. He did not go
steadily, however, the joyous news had shaken him, sturdy old pioneer
as he was. A fringe of white had grown about his temples in the last
two months. The people of the fort had said they had never seen him so
irascible, yet so gentle; so uneasy, yet so reserved; so stern about the
mouth, yet so kind about the eyes as he had been since Hume had gone on
this desperate errand.

Already the handful of people at the fort had gathered. Indians left
the store, and joined the rest; the factor and Sergeant Gosse set out
to meet the little army of relief. To the factor's "In the name of the
Hudson's Bay Company, Mr. Hume," when they met there came "By the help
of God, sir," and he pointed to the sled whereon Lepage lay. A feeble
hand was clasped in the burly hand of the factor, and then they all fell
into line again, Cloud-in-the-Sky running ahead of the dogs. Snow had
fallen on them, and as they entered the stockade, men and dogs were
white from head to foot.

The White Guard had come back. Jaspar Hume as simply acknowledged his
strident welcome as he had done the God-speed two months and more ago.
With the factor he bore the sick man in, and laid him on his own bed.
Then he came outside again, and