the two prospectors forgot their weariness as they rushed to the dying fire. carnally looked at the embers.

"can't have been gone long," he declared.

"shout, jake!" cried andrew. "i'm out of breath."

carnally called, and andrew's heart throbbed when a faint cry rose in answer. his anxiety had not been groundless: a lonely man runs many risks in the frozen north. following the sound, they hastened up the ravine, and as they rounded a projecting boulder, a red glow flashed out a little distance ahead, died down, and rose more clearly.

"that's mighty good to see!" carnally exclaimed.

graham met them as they entered the firelight.

"had any trouble?" andrew asked anxiously.

"no; and the foot's feeling better. the rest has done it good. i've been pretty comfortable since you left, though the wolves got so friendly last night that i thought i'd better shift my camp a bit to-night. i didn't allow you could get back before to-morrow, and i knew i'd hear you shout if you did. i left the other fire burning as a beacon."

andrew breathed deeply.

"it's a wonderful relief!" he said.

carnally looked hard at graham's face.

"guess you didn't sleep well, but we'll get a good rest to-night, now there are three of us. a timber wolf[pg 168] is a cussed mean brute. government ought to supply the bush settlers with free arsenic."

there was a brief silence, while graham waited, intent and eager, until carnally broke into a soft laugh.

"we struck it, partner! guess your lode's right there, but we couldn't do enough prospecting to tell you what it's worth."

graham turned his head for a moment, and his eyes glittered when he looked around.

"that is my misfortune and mappin's fault. but you must have your supper, and then we'll talk."

carnally glanced at andrew, who had thrown off his pack and sat down on it in an attitude of exhaustion.

"allinson allowed we'd be back to-night, and he hustled me along pretty lively for a tenderfoot."

they laughed at this and began the meal which graham soon had ready. then, sitting close beside the fire, they filled their pipes and graham carefully examined the bits of stone carnally produced. he poised them in his hands, because the weight is a rough test, before he looked up.

"what do you think of them, jake?" he asked.

"my idea is that they're pretty good, though they are not carrying a remarkable quantity of metal. of course, we may have struck only the edge of the lode. there wasn't time to find how it ran."

graham sat silent a while, and then turned to andrew with a strained expression.

"i agree with carnally. so far as i can judge, these specimens are not very rich, though the ore might pay for reduction. that i feel disappointed after waiting twenty years for this chance doesn't need saying; but i've brought you here at a big expense and risk and i can't blame you if you let the matter drop."

[pg 169]"nothing is farther from my mind," declared andrew, smiling. "it's unpleasant to feel beaten; and i'm partly responsible for our failure by confiding in mappin. if you and carnally still think i'm to be trusted as a partner, we'll come back again, though i'd prefer waiting until the ice breaks up in the spring."

graham's relief carried him away.

"i'd trust you with my life, allinson! it's hard to express what i feel, but i've got to talk. if we had failed to find the lode, i'd have gone home, content, i think, to forget it; but to have struck it and got no farther would have been maddening! the thing would have haunted me for the rest of my days; but i hardly expect any one would have put up the money for another search. i can see myself hanging round mining men's offices, laughed and sneered at, neglecting my work until the sawmill people turned me out—they'll tell you at the landing that i'm a crank. but the silver's there, allinson! you have only to look for it!"

"we'll have a good try," andrew promised cheerfully. "but the first thing we have to do is to get home, and i'm afraid it won't be easy. i wish the hudson bay factory weren't so far off."

they discussed their return, graham declaring that his foot was much better and that he ought to have no difficulty in keeping up with them, and soon afterward they went to sleep.

at daybreak they set off in a haze of driving snow, and andrew long remembered the march with a shudder. there was only one thing in their favor—the raging wind which drove the loose snow in clouds along the frozen creeks blew behind them. the cold was intense; even when no snow fell the light was dim; but they[pg 170] stumbled on, making the best progress they could. on the second day out graham sat down among the willows on an island trying to alter the fastenings of his snow-shoe. carnally, turning back with andrew through a cloud of drifting flakes glanced sharply at the sitting man.

"ah!" he said, indicating a broad smear on his moccasin; "that's fresh and bigger than before."

"broken out again," said graham, curtly. "there's no use in talking about it. i can't nurse it now."

"can you walk?" andrew asked.

"i'll have to," graham answered, getting up.

the truth of this was obvious, for the alternative was to freeze to death. he managed to keep up with the others, though carnally slackened the pace all the afternoon. when they camped at nightfall, graham would not let him examine his foot.

"if the moccasin comes off, i'll never get it on again," he declared.

after this, the distance traversed daily was reduced and rations were cut down to match. one day when the wind raged behind them, they made fourteen miles along a frozen creek; but more often they made eight or nine; and part of the time graham carried his snowshoes and limped in his moccasins. his companions helped him as much as they could over the roughest ground; but the only effectual way of assisting a crippled man is to carry him, which they could not do. their faces grew sterner and gaunter, but with grim restraint they husbanded the rapidly running out provisions, and one blustering morning they came upon the sled they had left on their outward journey, half covered with snow.

the traces, though frozen hard, were still attached[pg 171] to it, and andrew slipped them over his shoulders when graham, wrapped in all their blankets, sat down on the sled. it was a relief to get rid of their loads, and for a while andrew made a moderate pace. the wind had hardened the surface of the snow, and the runners slid along easily, but he found it different when he came to the next ascent. the trace hurt his chest, the weight he was hauling seemed to increase, his breathing got harder, his knees and shoulders ached.

"you had better let me have hold," carnally suggested.

"i'll get off," said graham. "i could hobble along if you fixed the back posts so i could lean on them."

"stay where you are!" carnally bade him curtly. "we have to make good time and we're going faster with you on the sled."

they altered the traces and plodded forward side by side, until the sled overturned on a steep slope and flung graham off. for the next hour he had to walk while they struggled across rocky hummocks and through belts of small spruces, and his face was gray with pain when he resumed his place. still, they made progress and felt more cheerful when they camped at night.

"i allow we're four miles to the good on this stage," carnally said. "that's a quarter of a day knocked off. with luck and a smooth trail, we're going through."

somehow they maintained the speed, though the struggle was almost unbearably hard, and one afternoon they nerved themselves to an extra effort as they toiled up a creek. it ran between rugged hills and the snow was good. they were badly worn out and andrew had a distressing pain in his side, but he braced[pg 172] himself against the drag of the trace, watching the white hill-shoulders change their shapes ahead. they were on the whitefish creek, and the first provision cache was not far off. when they reached it they would rest and feast luxuriously.

"keep her going," urged carnally "we want to make the island where the cache is before dark."

for an hour they struggled on in a state of tension, the snow crunching beneath their shoes, large flakes blowing past them. a heavy gray sky hung over head, and the cold was biting. then the hills in front grew dimmer, the scattered spruces lost their sharpness of form; dusk was falling when they came to a narrow lake. here the snow was very firm and the pace grew faster. they broke into a run when a blurred mass of willows came into sight. the cruel aches in joints and muscles were no longer felt; the food they craved was close at hand. they drew near the willows rapidly, though andrew was panting with exhaustion; the first of the bushes slipped behind, but more rose ahead, and he grew savage as he glanced at them. he knew that the island was small, but they seemed to be getting no nearer to its upstream tongue where he had arranged with mappin that the cache should be made.

"get on!" he cried hoarsely. "i can stand a little more yet."

a few minutes later they dropped the traces, and the sled, driving in among the willows, stopped with a crash. leaving graham to hobble after them, andrew and carnally plunged through the branches and came out on a short level strip. it was nearly dark now, but the snow glimmered faintly and only a few clumps of brush broke its surface. andrew stopped, breathing hard, and dismay seized him as he glanced about.

[pg 173]"this is the place," he said hoarsely. "i can't see the cache."

"search round here; i'll try farther on," carnally said, and vanished among the willows.

pulling himself together, andrew spent a few anxious minutes hurrying up and down the open space, but found nothing to suggest that it had lately been visited by a transport party. when he stopped, graham awkwardly hobbled toward him.

"haven't you found it yet?" he asked.

"no," said andrew, as calmly as he could. "there may have been a mistake about the spot. carnally's gone back to look."

they stood still for a few moments while the willows rustled harshly in the bitter wind. a little snow blew about them and it was very cold. then andrew broke away from his companion and, plunging into the bushes that grew thickly up the middle of the island, savagely floundered through them. he could not see where he was going, snow-laden branches whipped him, and he stuck fast now and then; but he thought that nobody could have traversed those thickets without leaving traces of his passage, and, finding none, he presently returned to the clear space. graham was still standing in the middle of it, but they waited in silence until carnally appeared. he was walking heavily, and they knew he had been unsuccessful.

"nothing; not a sign of a cache," he reported in a strained voice. "so far as i can see, this is the only place on the island where one could have been made. i found a few small spruces on a higher patch. we'll pack the truck along and camp there."

it took them some time and they had trouble in helping graham through the brush, but scarcely a word was[pg 174] spoken until they gathered about their fire. then carnally broke into a harsh laugh as he laid three morsels of pork in the frying-pan and took out a very small bannock baked the previous night.

"this isn't the kind of supper i looked forward to but we'll get less to-morrow," he said. "the blasted hog has played another trick on us!"