' departure and wondered where he was going when he
crossed the range. There was a mystery about the matter, and if an
explanation could be arrived at it would be of interest to him and his
friends. Even before Clarke had sent them into the muskeg when he knew
it was practically impassable, Harding had entertained a deep distrust
of him. He was, however, called upon to help in dragging the sledge
over an obstacle, and the difficulties of the way afterwards occupied
his attention.

By and by they found clearer ground and made good progress until late
in the afternoon when, seeing a rocky spur running out from the
hillside, they headed for it to look for a sheltered camping place.
There was still some daylight, but a cold wind had sprung up, blowing
the loose snow into their faces, and when, as they neared the spur, the
dogs swerved as if attracted by something, the half-breed struck the
nearest beast and drove them on.

"That was curious," said Private Walthew. "It was old Chasseur who led
them off and he's not given to playing tricks."

"A dead mink or beaver in the snow," the Sergeant suggested. "I didn't
notice anything, but they've a keen scent. Anyhow, let's get into
camp."

They found a nook among the rocks and Emile loosed the dogs and threw
them some frozen fish while the rest made supper. It was a heavy,
lowering evening, and the bitter air was filled with the murmur of the
spruces as the wind passed over them. Though the light was fading,
they kept their sharpness of outline, rising, black and ragged, from a
sweep of chill, lifeless grey. When the meal was nearly finished, Lane
looked round the camp.

"Where are the dogs?" he asked. "They're very quiet."

"I leaf zem la bas," said Emile, waving his hand towards a neighbouring
hollow. Then moving a few paces forward he exclaimed: "Ah! les
coquins!"

"Looks as if they'd bolted," Walthew remarked. "I think I know where
to find them."

He left the camp with Emile and presently the others heard the
half-breed threatening the dogs; then Walthew's voice reached them and
there was a hoarse and urgent tone in it. Springing up, they ran back
along the trail and found Emile keeping off the dogs while Walthew bent
over a dark object that lay half revealed in the clawed up snow. At
first Harding saw only a patch or two of ragged fur that looked as if
it belonged to an animal; then with a shock he caught the outline of a
man's shoulder and arm. The