d in t' Richard though 'tis a sore trial t'
do it," said Douglas, preparing at once to go. "I'll be findin' un on
th' trail. Keep courage, Mary, until we comes. 'Twill be but four days
at furthest," he added as he was going out of the door.

Ed left immediately after for his home, to spend a day or two before
returning to his inland trail, and Mrs. Gray and Emily and Bessie
were left alone again in a gloom of sorrow that approached despair.

That night long after the light was out and they had gone to bed, Mrs.
Gray, who was still lying awake with her trouble, heard Emily softly
speak:

"Mother."

She stole over to Emily's couch and kissed the child's cheek.

"Mother, an' th' wolves killed Bob, won't he be an angel now?"

"Bob's livin'--somewheres--child, an' I'm prayin' th' Lard in His
mercy t' care of th' lad. Th' Lard knows where un is, lass, an' th'
Lard'll sure not be forgettin' he."

"But," she insisted, "he's an angel now _if_ th' wolves killed un?"

"Yes, dear."

"An' th' Lard lets angels come sometimes t' see th' ones they loves,
don't He, mother?"

"Be quiet now, lass."

"But He does?" persisted the child.

"Aye, He does."

"Then if Bob were killed, mother, he'll sure be comin' t' see us. His
angel'd never be restin' easy in heaven wi'out comin' t' see us, for
he knows how sore we longs t' see un."

The mother drew the child to her heart and sobbed.

XV

IN THE WIGWAM OF SISHETAKUSHIN

Day after day the Indians travelled to the northward, drawing their
goods after them on toboggans, over frozen rivers and lakes, or
through an ever scantier growth of trees. With every mile they
traversed Bob's heart grew heavier in his bosom, for he was constantly
going farther from home, and the prospect of return was fading away
with each sunset. He knew that they were moving northward, for always
the North Star lay before them when they halted for the night, and
always a wilder, more unnatural country surrounded them. Finally a
westerly turn was taken, and he wondered what their goal might be.

Cold and bitter was the weather. The great limitless wilderness was
frozen into a deathlike silence, and solemn and awful was the vast
expanse of white that lay everywhere around them. They, they alone, it
seemed, lived in all the dreary world. The icy hand of January had
crushed all other creatures into oblivion. No deer, no animals of any
kind crossed their trail. Their food was going rapidly, and the