ld reassure himself
with the promise that the hairs of his daughter's head were numbered
and that she was under divine protection.

From a pocket next his shirt he drew a small package in oilskin. It
was a Bible he had carried many years. By the light of the leaping
flames he read a chapter from the New Testament and the twenty-third
Psalm, after which the storm-bound men knelt while he prayed that God
would guard and keep safe "the wee lamb lost in the tempest far frae
the fold."

Morse and Beresford were tough as hickory withes. None in the North
woods had more iron in the blood than they. Emergencies had tested
them time and again. But neither of them was ashamed to kneel with the
big rugged Scotchman while he poured his heart out in a petition for
his lass. The security of the girl whom all four loved each in his own
way was out of the hands of her friends. To know that McRae had found
a sure rock upon which to lean brought the younger men too some
measure of peace.

CHAPTER XXVI

A RESCUE

The gray day wore itself away into the deeper darkness of early dusk.
Like a wild beast attacking its prey, the hurricane still leaped with
deep and sullen roars at the little cabin on Bull Creek. It beat upon
it in wild, swirling gusts. It flung blasts of wind, laden with snow
and sleet, against the log walls and piled drifts round them almost to
the eaves.

Long since Whaley had been forced to take the dogs into the cabin to
save them from freezing to death. It was impossible for any of the
three human beings to venture out for more than a few minutes at a
time. Even then they had to keep close to the walls in order not to
lose contact with the house.

When feeding-time came the dogs made pandemonium. They were
half-famished, as teams in the Lone Lands usually are, and the smell
of the frozen fish thawing before the fire set them frantic. West and
Whaley protected Jessie while she turned the fish. This was not easy.
The plunging animals almost rushed the men off their feet. They had
to be beaten back cruelly with the whip-stocks, for they were wild as
wolves and only the sharpest pain would restrain them.

The half-thawed fish were flung to them in turn. There was a snarl, a
snap of the jaws, a gulp, and the fish was gone. Over one or two that
fell in the pack the train worried and fought, with sharp yelps
and growls, until the last fragment had been torn to pieces and
disappeared.

Afterward the storm-bou