ain of somewhat eccentric genius; but
he was irresponsible and erratic, one could not depend on him. The
Canadian was of different temperament: slower, less subject to impulse,
but more stubborn and more consistent. When dealing with him one would
know what to expect. He would reason out a purpose and then unwaveringly
adhere to it.

"Well," the clergyman said, "you may have to cross a big province; and
though it's warmer as you get down to the coast, the weather's often
nearly arctic among the ranges, while it's only here and there that
you'll have a chance to find shelter. It's a trip that's not to be
undertaken rashly. You'll need a fur coat, among other things, and I
think I can get you one. You had better take a couple of days' rest so as
to start fresh. And now it's time for bed."

Prescott spent the next day with him and left the camp at daybreak on the
second morning. He wore a long coat, from which the fur had peeled in
patches, and carried a heavy pack besides a small ax. His boots were
dilapidated, but he had been unable to replace them. There was sharp
frost and when he boarded a construction train he looked back at the camp
with keen regret; he shrank from the grim wilds ahead. A haze of smoke
hung over the clustering shacks, lights still blinked among them, and
already the nipping air was filled with sounds of activity. Then the
locomotive shrieked and he turned his face toward the lonely white hills
as the cars moved forward with a jerk. It was bitterly cold, though he
lay down out of the wind behind the load of rails, where hot cinders
rattled about him and now and then stung his face.

At noon the train stopped. Alighting with cramped limbs, Prescott saw
that the rails went no farther. A few shacks stood forlornly upon the
hillside, a frozen river wound like a white riband through the gorge
beneath, and ahead lay a sharply rising waste of rock and snow. His path
led across it, and after a word or two with the men on the line he began
his journey, breaking through the thin, frozen crust. The sounds behind
him grew fainter and ceased; the trail of dingy smoke which had followed
him melted away, and he was alone in the wilderness. His course was
marked, however, by a pile of stones here, a blazed tree there, and he
plodded on all day. When night came he found a hollow free from snow
beneath a clump of juniper, and lay awake, shivering under his blankets.
White peaks and snow-fields were wrapped in deathl