them, not acquaintances of an hour's length, but staunch
friends, both strong and tried. Then they loosened the warm, manly
grip, and were ready for the worst.

For there was no longer any doubt: the enemy was close at hand, waiting
the moment for the deadly rush. The only question was whether they
should fire at once--not with the thought of hitting, but to teach the
scoundrels how thoroughly they were on the alert, and in the hope of
driving them into taking to flight once more.

But they doubted. A few shots had done this once, but now that the
miscreants had had time to recover from their panic, would it answer
again?

Thud! thud! in front, and then a far heavier one behind them. They
could not hold out much longer. The enemy was creeping towards them.

At this moment there was a tremendous crack, a hissing roar, and a
terrific concussion, the defenders of the tiny fort being struck down
behind their little breastwork.

But this onslaught was not from the enemy they awaited. The
ever-gathering snow from far above, loosened by the hot current of air
ascending from the fire, had come down in one awful charge, and the
marauders' camp was buried in an instant beneath thousands of tons of
snow.

CHAPTER FIVE.

HAND IN HAND.

There was the sense of a terrible weight pressing the sufferers down,
with their chests against the soft load bound upon the sledge in front;
and utterly stunned, they lay for a time motionless, and almost
breathless.

Then one began to struggle violently, striving to draw himself back, and
after a tremendous effort succeeding, to find that beneath him the snow
was loose, there being a narrow space along by the side of the sledge,
and that though his breath came short he could still breathe.

He had hardly grasped this fact when the movement on his right told of a
similar action going on, and he began to help his companion in
misfortune, who directly after crouched down beside him, panting
heavily, in the narrow space, which their efforts had, however, made
wider.

"Horrible!" panted the second at last. "An avalanche. Surely this does
not mean death."

There was no reply, and in the awful darkness a hand was stretched out
and an arm grasped.

"Why don't you say something?" whispered the speaker hoarsely.

"What can I say, man? God only knows."

"But it is only snow. We must burrow our way out. Wait a moment. This
way is towards the open valley."

"No, no; this.