the Indians lay about in their
deathlike slumber. There was a stirring as of waking in a far corner,
and for awhile he contemplated the direction. Then, at last, his eyes
came back to the crumpled face of the old man awaiting anxiously his
reply.

"Tell him," he said, addressing the squaw without withdrawing his gaze
from the face of the old man, "that the officer of the Great White Chief
will wait till the snow goes. Tell him he'll need to have his young men
ready then to make the trail. And when they've shown the officer all
they've found, and told him all they know, then the officer will tell
the Great White Chief that the 'Sleeper' men are good men, who deserve
all that is good. Tell him, there will be no thunder or lightning. And
if white men come again to the fort and find it as it has been left,
nothing taken, nothing destroyed, then maybe they'll bring good trade
for the Indian men, and presents for the big chief. But if they come and
find that one little thing has been destroyed or stolen, then the
thunder and lightning will speak, and there'll be no more Indians."

* * * * *

When Steve and An-ina emerged from the woods utter and complete darkness
reigned. The world had been swallowed up under an inky pall. The moon,
the brilliant stars, the blazing northern lights--all were extinguished,
and not a ray of light was left to guide them the last few hundred yards
to safety. Furthermore snow was falling. It was falling in great flakes
half as big as a man's hand.

The life-line which the woman had set up was all that stood between them
and complete disaster.

CHAPTER IX

THE VISION OF THE SPIRE

Winter with all its deadly perils had become a memory. Life was supreme
again on the plateau of Unaga. It was in the air, in the breezes
sweeping down from the Northern hills, where the crystal snow caps no
longer had power to inspire distrust. It was in the flowing waters of
the river. It was in the flights of swarming wildfowl, winging to fresh
pastures of melting snows. It was in the new-born grass blades,
thrusting up their delicate heads to rid the world of winter's
unsightliness. The animal world, too, was seeking to alleviate the pangs
of semi-starvation to which it had so long been condemned. The sense of
gladness was stirring, lifting the world upon a glorious pinacle of
youthful hope.

Gladness was in An-ina's heart as she moved over the dripping grass,
bearing t