st to speech.

When at last he answered it was in a tone of fiery abruptness.

"Guess not," he said. And it was Ralph's turn to hold back the anger
which rose within him.

"Why?"

"Say, brother," said Nick, with a biting distinctness, "quit right
there. Ther' ain't no need fer another word."

For a moment Ralph peered into the other's face; but he remained silent.
Then he turned over upon his pillow with a sound very like a muttered
curse. And from that moment the gulf between them became impassable.
Aim-sa was a subject henceforth tabooed from their conversation. Each
watched the other with distrust, and even hatred, full grown within him.

And soon there came a further disturbing element in that mountain home.
It awoke all the dormant atmosphere of mystery, which, in the minds of
the two men, surrounded the lovely Aim-sa. It awoke afresh the "Dread of
the Wild" that had assailed them on their journey north.

It came in the early morning, when the world about them was cloaked in
the grey shroud of daylight mists; when the silent forests above and
below them were rendered even more ghostly and sepulchral by reason of
the heavy vapour which depressed all on which it settled. Nick was
standing, rifle in hand, preparing to sling it across his back. Ralph
was stooping to adjust his snow-shoes. Aim-sa had been left within the
hut.

A gentle breeze, like the icy breath of some frozen giant on the peak
above the hut, came lazily down the hillside. It broke the fog into a
turmoil of protest. The heavy vapour rolled in huge waves, sought to
return to its settled calm, then slowly lifted from the flustered
tree-tops. Another breath, a little stronger than the first, shot
forcefully into the heart of the morning fog and scattered it
mercilessly. Then the whole grey expanse solemnly lifted. Up it rose;
nor did it pause until the lower hills were bared, and the wintry sun
shone splendidly down upon the crystal earth.

And as the air cleared the keen eyes of Nick flashed out in a swift
survey of the prospect. Suddenly his breathing was sharply indrawn. His
rifle never reached his shoulder, but remained gripped in his hand. His
eyes had become riveted upon a low hill far out across the valley. It
looked as though it rose sheer out of the forest below, but the watching
man knew full well that it was only a spur of the giant that backed it.
It was the summit of this clear-cut hill, and what was visible upon it,
that held his