again, "an'," as an afterthought, "it's
storming terrible. Wher'? Why?"

He stood again for awhile like a man utterly at a loss. Then he began to
move, not quietly or with any display of stealth. He was no longer the
self-contained trapper, but a man suddenly bereft of that which he holds
most dear. He ran noisily from point to point, prying here, there, and
everywhere for some sign which could tell him whither she had gone. But
there was nothing to help him, nothing that could tell him that which he
would know. She had gone, vanished, been spirited away in the storm.

He was suddenly inspired. It was the realization of the condition of the
night which put the thought into his head. With a bound he sprang back
to the door and flung it open. To an extent the storm-porch was
sheltered, and little drift-snow had blown in to cover the traces of
footsteps. Down he dropped upon hands and knees. Instantly all his
trailing instincts were bent upon his task. Yes, there were footprints,
many, many. There were his own, large moccasins of home manufacture.
There were Aim-sa's, clear, delicate, and small. And whose were those
other two? He ran his finger over the outline as though to impress the
shape more certainly upon his mind.

"Wide toe," he muttered, "long heel, an' high instep. Large, large, too.
By G----, they're Injun!"

He gave out the last words in a shout which rang high above the noise of
the storm; he sprang to his feet and dashed out around to the lean-to.
At the door he met his brother. Nick had been roused by his brother's
cry.

Seeing the expression of Ralph's face the larger man stood.

"By Gar!" he cried. Then he waited, fearing he knew not what.

"She's gone," shouted Ralph. "Gone, gone, can't ye hear?" he roared.
"Gone, an' some darned neche's been around. She's gone, in the blizzard.
Come!"

And he seized Nick by the arm and dragged him round to the door of the
dugout.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE UNQUENCHABLE FIRE

An interminable week of restless inaction and torture followed Aim-sa's
disappearance. Seven long, weary days the blizzard raged and held the
two brothers cooped within their little home. The brief, grey daylight
dragged to its howling end, and the seemingly endless nights brought
them little relief. The only inhabitants of the hut on the wild hillside
that offered no complaint, and even seemed to welcome the change, were
Nick's huskies. They displayed a better temper since the going o