nted it over with as soon as possible.

They headed into the wilds. The road they made was a crooked
path through the white, unbroken forest. They saw many traces of
fur-bearing animals, but did not stop to do any hunting. The intense
cold and the appearance of the sky were whips to drive them fast. In
the next two or three days they passed fifteen or twenty lakes. Over
these they traveled rapidly, but in the portages and the woods they
had to pack the snow, sometimes cut out obstructing brush, and again
help the dogs over rough or heavy places.

The blizzard caught them the third day. They fought their way through
the gathering storm across a rather large lake to the timber's
edge. Here they cleared away a space about nine feet square and cut
evergreen boughs from the trees to cover it. At one side of this,
Morse built the fire while Beresford unharnessed the dogs and thawed
out a mess of frozen fish for them. Presently the kettles were
bubbling on the fire. The men ate supper and drew the sled up as a
barricade against the wind.

The cold had moderated somewhat and it had come on to snow. All night
a sleety, wind-driven drizzle beat upon them. They rose from an
uncomfortable night to a gloomy day.

They consulted about what was best to do. Their camp was in a poor
place, among a few water-logged trees that made a poor, smoky fire. It
had little shelter from the storm, and there was no evidence of fair
weather at hand.

"Better tackle the next traverse," Morse advised. "Once we get across
the lake we can't be worse off than we are here."

"Righto!" assented Beresford.

They packed their supplies, harnessed the dogs, and were off. Into the
storm they drove, head down, buffeted by a screaming wind laden with
stinging sleet that swept howling across the lake. All about them they
heard the sharp reports of cracking ice. At any moment a fissure might
open, and its width might be an inch or several yards. In the blinding
gale they could see nothing. Literally, they had to feel their way.

Morse went ahead to test the ice, Cuffy following close at his heels.
The water rushes up after a fissure and soon freezes over. The danger
is that one may come to it too soon.

This was what happened. Morse, on his snowshoes, crossed the thinly
frozen ice safely. Cuffy, a step or two behind the trail-breaker,
plunged through into the water. The prompt energy of Beresford saved
the other dogs. He stopped them instantly and threw