steep slope. He stopped, wondering stupidly
whether he could get down to recover it.

"Never mind; come back!" Lisle called to him. "I'll go for the thing."

The lad turned at the summons and sank down again beside the fire.

"I think I'm done," he said wearily. "I may feel a little more fit in the
morning."

Lisle filled the kettle and prepared supper, and after eating
voraciously, Crestwick lay down in the tent. It was in comparative
shelter, but the frost grew more severe and the icy wind, eddying in
behind the rock, threatened to overturn the frail structure every now and
then. He tried to smoke, but found no comfort in it after he had with
difficulty lighted his pipe; he did not feel inclined to talk, and it was
a relief to him when Lisle sank into slumber.

Crestwick long remembered that night. His feet and hands tingled
painfully with the cold, the branches he lay upon found out the sorest
parts of his aching body, and he would have risen and walked up and down
in the lee of the rock had he felt capable of the exertion, but he was
doubtful whether he could even get upon his feet. At times thick smoke
crept into the tent, and though it set him to coughing it was really a
welcome change in his distressing sensations. He was utterly exhausted,
but he shivered too much to sleep.

At last, a little while before daybreak, Lisle got up and strode away to
the river after stirring the fire, and then, most cruel thing of all, the
lad became sensible of a soothing drowsiness when it was too late for him
to indulge in it. For a few moments he struggled hard, and then
blissfully yielded. He was awakened by his companion, who was shaking him
as he laid a plate and pannikin at his feet.

"We must be off in a few minutes," he announced.

Crestwick raised himself with one hand and blinked.

"I don't know whether I can manage it."

"Then," responded Lisle, hiding his compassion, "you'll have to decide
which of two things you'll do--you can stay here until I come back, or
you can take the trail with me. I must go on."

Crestwick shrank from the painful choice. He did not think that he could
walk; but to prolong the experience of the previous night for another
twenty-four hours or more seemed even worse. He ate his breakfast; and
then with a tense effort he got upon his feet and slipped the straps of
the pack over his shoulders. Moving unevenly, he set off, lest he should
yield to his weariness and sink down again.

"C