fe distance,
though plainly showing his intention to wait till the man came down.
But the approach of a band of rescuers changed his mind, and he went
away.

Fiddler Paul found it easier to explain matters to Ninette than he
would to any one else. He still stood first in her affections, but so
hopelessly ill with her father that they decided on an elopement, as
soon as he should return from Fort Alexander, whither he was to go for
the Company, as dog-driver. The Factor was very proud of his train
Dogs--three great Huskies with curly, bushy tails, big and strong as
Calves, but fierce and lawless as pirates. With these the Fiddler Paul
was to drive to Fort Alexander from Fort Garry--the bearer of several
important packets. He was an expert Dog-driver, which usually means
relentlessly cruel. He set off blithely down the river in the morning,
after the several necessary drinks of whiskey. He expected to be gone a
week, and would then come back with twenty dollars in his pocket, and
having thus provided the sinews of war, would carry out the plan of
elopement. Away they went down the river on the ice. The big Dogs
pulled swiftly but sulkily as he cracked the long whip and shouted,
"Allez, allez, marchez." They passed at speed by Renaud's shanty on the
bank, and Paul, cracking his whip and running behind the train, waved
his hand to Ninette as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole with
the sulky Dogs and drunken driver disappeared around the bend--and that
was the last ever seen of Fiddler Paul.

That evening the Huskies came back singly to Fort Garry. They were
spattered with frozen blood, and were gashed in several places. But
strange to tell they were quite "unhungry."

Runners went on the back trail and recovered the packages. They were
lying on the ice unharmed. Fragments of the sled were strewn for a mile
or more up the river; not far from the packages were shreds of clothing
that had belonged to the Fiddler.

It was quite clear, the Dogs had murdered and eaten their driver.

The Factor was terribly wrought up over the matter. It might cost him
his Dogs. He refused to believe the report and set off to sift the
evidence for himself. Renaud was chosen to go with him, and before they
were within three miles of the fatal place Renaud pointed to a very
large track crossing from the east to the west bank of the river, just
after the Dog sled. He ran it backward for a mile or more on the
eastern bank, noted how it