nk, but
this was a protection, and they were thankful they had found such a
camping place, since death would have been the consequence of being
caught in the open. The blizzard gathered strength, but though they
heard the crash of broken trees through the roar of the wind no more
logs fell, and by and by they went to sleep, secure in the shelter of
the rock.

When day broke it was long past the usual hour, and the cloud of
driving flakes obscured even the spruces a few yards away. The hollow
at the foot of the crag was shadowy, and the snow had piled up several
feet above the bank, and lapped over at one end. Still, with wood
enough, they could keep warm, and had their supplies been larger they
would have been content to rest. As things were, however, they were
confronted with perhaps the gravest peril that threatens the traveller
in the North--they might be detained by bad weather until their food
ran out. None of them spoke of this, but by tacit agreement they made
a very sparing breakfast and ate nothing at noon. When night came and
the storm still raged, their hearts were very heavy.

It lasted three days, and on the fourth morning it seemed scarcely
possible to face the somewhat lighter wind and break a trail through
the fresh snow. They, however, dare risk no further delay, and
strapping on their packs struggled up the range. At nightfall they
were high among the rocks, and it was piercingly cold, but they got a
few hours' sleep in a clump of junipers and struck the valley late next
day. Finding shelter, they made camp and after dividing a small
bannock between them sat talking gloomily. Their fire had been lighted
to lee of a cluster of willows and burned sulkily because the wood was
green. Pungent smoke curled about them, and they shivered in the
draughts.

"How far do you make it to the logging camp?" Benson asked. "I'm
taking it for granted that the lumber gang's still there."

"A hundred and sixty miles," said Blake.

"And we have food enough for two days; say forty miles."

"About that; it depends upon the snow."

Benson made no answer, and Harding was silent a while, sitting very
still with knitted brows. Then he said, "I can't see any way out. Can
you?"

"Well," said Blake quietly, "we'll go on as long as we are able.
Though I haven't had a rosy time, I've faith in my luck."

Conversation languished after this, but they had a small cake of
tobacco left, and sat smoking and hiding