g the cold, drenched
garment of the child he could not see.

In its terror at this fresh danger the little one shrieked and rolled
away; but the man lifted it tenderly, and soothed it with kind words
till its shrieks ceased and it clung close to its rescuer.

"There, there, poor baby! How came you here? Don't be afraid. I'll
take you home. Tempest will find the way. Feel--the good horse knows.
It was he that found you; we'll get on his back and ride straight to
mamma, for whom you called."

Climbing slowly back into his saddle, because of the little one he
held so carefully, Gaspar laid its cold hand upon the gelding's neck,
but it slid listlessly aside and he realized that he had come not a
moment too soon.

All night they wandered, the child lying on Gaspar's breast wrapped in
his coat, while the mist penetrated his own clothing and seemed to
creep into his very thoughts, numbing them to a sort of despair that
no effort could cast off. The wail of the child lost in that
dreariness had brought back, like a lightning's flash, the earliest
memories of his life and revived his never-dying hatred of his
parent's slayers.

"An Indian's hand was in this work!" he mused. "Doubtless, the mother
for whom it grieved has met the fate which befell my own. And Abel
said that it was among such as these my Sun Maid had gone!"

Then justice called to mind his knowledge of Wahneenah, of the Black
Partridge, old Winnemeg, and others, and his mood softened somewhat;
but still memory tormented him and the white fog seemed a background
for ghastly scenes too awful for words. Above all and through all, one
consciousness was keener and fiercer than the others:

"My Kitty is among them at this moment! O, God, keep her!"

It was the strongest cry of his yearning heart; yet underneath lay an
impotent rage at his own powerlessness to help in this preservation.

"For what is my manhood or my courage worth to her now? And even the
Deity seems veiled by this deadening, suffocating mist!"

But Tempest moved steadily on once more, and the little child warmed
to life on his breast; and by degrees the man's self-torment ceased.
Then he lifted his eyes afresh and struggled to pierce the gloom.

What was that? A light! A little yellow spot in the gray whiteness,
which the horse was first to see and toward which he now hastened with
a firmer speed.

"It's a fire. No, a lamp in a house window. There, it's gone. A
will-o'-the-wisp by some hid