bin, and
I put the poke in my pocket and hurried to do what I could.

"The setter hampered me and was frantic when I turned away, alternately
following me a few yards, whining and begging, and rushing back to his
master. Finally he stopped on the farther side of the ice-bridge and set
up a prolonged cry. His mistress had come to meet me and she waited at the
crossing, supporting herself with her hands on a great boulder, shoulders
forward, breath hushed, watching me with her soul in her eyes. At last I
reached her. 'Madam,' I began, but the words caught in my throat. I turned
and looked up at the splendor on the mountain. The air drew sharp across
the ice, but a sudden heat swept me; I was wet with perspiration from head
to foot. 'Madam,' and I forced myself to meet her eyes, 'it is just as I
expected; the dog found--nothing.'

"She straightened herself slowly, still watching me, then suddenly threw
her arms against the rock and dropped her face. 'Come,' I said, 'we must
start back. Come, I want to hurry through to my camp for a horse.'

"This promise was all she needed to call up her supreme self-control, and
she lifted her face with a smile that cut me worse than any tears. 'I'm
not ungrateful,' she said, 'but--I felt so sure, from the first, you would
find him.'

"'And you felt right,' I hurried to answer. 'Trust me to bring him
through.'

"I whistled the setter, and she called repeatedly, but he refused to
follow. When we started down the trail, he watched us from his post at the
farther end of the ice-bridge, whining and baying, and the moment she
stopped at the first turn to look back, he streaked off once more for that
pocket. 'Never mind,' I said, and helped her over a rough place, 'Jerry
knows he is a good traveler. He will be home before you.' But it was plain
to me he would not, and try as I might to hurry her out of range of his
cry, it belled again soon, and the cliffs caught it over and over and
passed it on to us far down the gorge."

There was one of those speaking silences in which the great heart of the
man found expression, and the woman beside him, following his gaze, sifted
the cloudy Pass. She seemed in that moment to see that other canyon,
stretching down from the glacier, and those two skirting the edge of
cliffs, treading broken stairs, pursued by the cry of the setter into the
gathering gloom of the Arctic night.

"It grew very cold in that gorge," he went on, "and I blamed myself for
t