op
frantically at the ice. Two of the canoemen with their paddles held
her head on, while the other two, with the help of Chloe and Big Lena
endeavoured to stay the inrush of water with blankets and fragments of
clothing.

Progress was slow. The ice thickened as they neared the shore, and
Lapierre's paddle-blade, battered upon its point and edges to a soft,
fibrous pulp, thudded softly upon the ice without breaking it. He
threw the paddle overboard and seized another. A few more yards were
won, but the shore loomed black and forbidding, and many yards away.
Despite the utmost efforts of the women and the two canoemen, the water
gained rapidly. Lapierre redoubled his exertion, chopping and stabbing
at the ever thickening shore-ice. And then suddenly his paddle crashed
through, and with a short cry of relief he rose to his feet, and leaped
into the black water, where he sank only to his middle. The canoemen
followed. And the canoe, relieved of the bulk of its burden, floated
more easily.

Slowly they pushed shoreward through the shallow water, the men
breaking the ice before them. And a few minutes later, wet and chilled
to the bone, they stepped onto the gravel.

Within the shelter of a small thicket a fire was built, and while the
men returned to examine the damaged canoe, the two women wrung out
their dripping garments and, returning them wet, huddled close to the
tiny blaze. The men returned to the fire, where a meal was prepared
and eaten in silence. As he ate, Chloe noticed that Lapierre seemed
ill at ease.

"Did you repair the canoe?" she asked. The man shook his head.

"No. It is damaged beyond any thought of repair. We removed the food
and such of its contents as are necessary, and, loading it with rocks,
sank it in the lake."

"Sank it in the lake!" cried the girl in amazement.

"Yes," answered Lapierre. "For even if it were not damaged, it would
be of no further use to us. Tonight the lake will freeze."

"What are we going to do?" cried the girl.

"There is only one thing to do," answered Lapierre quickly. "Walk to
the school. It is not such a long trail--a hundred miles or so. And
you can take it easy. You have plenty of provisions."

"I!" cried the girl. "And what will you do?"

"It is necessary," answered the man, "that I should make a forced
march."

"You are going to leave me?"

Lapierre smiled at the evident note of alarm in her voice. "I am going
to take two of the