tions to Mr Macnab how
to treat her."

"You are very kind," replied the girl with much earnestness of tone and
manner.

"And now, Waboose," I continued, "you remember saying long ago you would
show me the packet that--"

"Yes, it is here," she said, quickly, taking it out of the folds of a
light shawl which covered her shoulders--the gift of Jessie--and handing
it to me.

"Thank you. Well, I will examine it carefully this afternoon and give
it back to you to-morrow before you start."

"No, keep it. I can trust you," she said, with a simple look that
somehow depressed me, for it was almost too simple and sisterly to my
mind. "Besides," she added, "it is safer in your hands than mine, and
when I come again you will explain to me what it contains."

Next day the party left us. It consisted of Macnab, who, with his
wonted energy of nature, was leader and beater of the track; the
sprightly Jessie in a cariole drawn by four dogs; Waboose's mother in a
similar cariole, and the fair Waboose herself, on snow-shoes, for she
preferred the mode of travelling to which she had been most accustomed.
Two Indians dragging provision-sleds brought up the rear.

It had been arranged that I should convoy the party to their first
bivouac in the snow, spend the night with them, and continue to journey
with them the second day as far as was consistent with the possibility
of returning to the fort that night. Jack Lumley accompanied us at
first, but another small party of Indians had come in to stay at the
fort at that time, and although he had, I am certain, a very strong
desire to go further, with his usual self-sacrificing spirit when duty
pointed another way, he turned and left us at the end of a few miles.

I spent the night in the snow-bivouac as arranged, and continued to
journey onward with the party next day, until Macnab refused to let me
go another step.

"Now, Max," he said, laughingly, "you must turn here. Why, man, it will
be midnight before you get in, good walker though you be. Come,
good-bye."

"Well, well, I suppose it's better to turn since you seem tired of my
company," said I, turning to Jessie, who stood up in her sleigh to shake
hands. "Good-bye, Miss Macnab."

"Jessie, man, Jessie--none of your Miss Macnabs here, else I'll tumble
you into the snow by way of farewell," shouted the irrepressible
Highlander.

"Very well, good-bye, Jessie," said I, with a laugh, though my heart was
heavy enough. "Go