as the sparks and ashes were wafted about the place,
threatening to fire the two rough bed-places; and with the drifting fine
snow a great lump forced its way in through the narrow crack, rushing
towards the blaze, uttering a dismal howl.

Dallas thrust the door to and stared at the object before them, one of
the great Eskimo dogs, with its thick coat so matted and covered with
ice and snow that the hairs seemed finished off with icicles, which
rattled as the poor brute moved.

"Hullo, here!" cried Dallas. "Where's your master?"

The dog looked at him intelligently, then opened its mouth and howled.

"Come along, then. Seek, seek."

The young man made for the door as if to open it, but the dog crept
closer to the fire, crouched down, and howled more dismally than before.

"Well, come and find him, then. Your master. Here, here! Come along."

The dog lifted its head, looked at the glowing fire, and then at first
one and then the other, howled again, and made an effort to raise
itself, but fell over.

"What's he mean by that, poor brute? He's as weak as a rat. What is
it, then, old fellow?" cried Dallas, bending down to pat him. "Why, the
poor brute's a mere skeleton."

The dog howled once more, struggled up, and fell over sideways.

"He doesn't act as if any one was with him," said Abel.

The dog howled again, made a fresh effort, and this time managed to sit
up on his hindquarters, and drooped his fore-paws, opening his great
mouth and lolling out the curled-up tongue.

"Starving--poor wretch!" said Dallas. "No, no, Bel, don't. It's the
last piece of the bread."

"I can't eat it," replied Abel. "Let the poor brute have it. I can't
see it suffer like that."

He broke up the cake and threw it piece after piece, each being snapped
up with avidity, till there was no more, when the poor brute whined and
licked Bel's hand, and then turned, crawled nearer to the fire, laid his
great rough head across Dallas's foot, and lay blinking up at him, with
the ice and snow which matted his dense coat melting fast.

"Poor beggar!" said Dallas. "He has been having a rough time."

The dog whined softly, and the unpleasant odour of burning hair began to
fill the place as his bushy tail was swept once into the glowing embers.

"Give him part of the moose bone, Dal," said Abel.

"If this blizzard keeps on we have only that to depend on, old fellow.
I want to help the dog, but I must think of you."

"Give it