be said
here that that was the last the Rovers saw or heard of him for a long
time to come.

The day passed slowly, the others doing all they could for poor Tom.
The sufferer roused up several times and took what nourishment was
given to him. His head had been bound up, so that the cut on his
forehead did not show. Evidently he was suffering from exposure and
the loss of blood.

"We must get him to Dawson somehow," said Dick. "I guess we had better
start to-morrow morning early."

"Just what I think," replied Sam.

"Suits me," responded Jack Wumble. "But it ain't going to be no easy
job makin' it, boys," he added, seriously.

CHAPTER XXVI

IN THE GRIP OF THE TORNADO

In the morning all thoughts of moving had to be abandoned. It was
snowing furiously and the wind was sweeping around them in a perfect
gale.

"We're snowbound," said Jack Wumble, after a look around. "Winter this
year has come on putty quick."

It was a dismaying state of affairs and Sam and Dick looked at each
other questioningly. What was to be done?

Tom was no better nor was he worse. He lay where they had placed him,
close to the fire, and took such nourishment as was given to him. At
times he appeared quite rational, but once in a while he asked some
question that showed he was not altogether in his right mind.

"We could stay here for some time if it wasn't for one thing," remarked
Dick. "We have got to have food."

"Just what I was thinking," returned Sam. "As it is, we haven't enough
to last us for more than a week at the most."

"If there was a river anywhere near I'd try my hand at fishin'," said
the old miner. "Ye kin get plenty o' fish in Alaska, even if ye have
to fish through a hole in the ice fer 'em."

The cold was so intense that the boys were glad enough to stir around
in the snow and wind to keep warm. They cut a big pile of firewood and
piled the brushwood thickly around the shelter, taking care, however,
to keep it from the campfire.

The day went slowly by. At nightfall the snow stopped coming down, but
the wind blew as before and if anything it was colder.

"Nothing but ice from now on," announced Jack Wumble, and he was right,
by morning everything was frozen up, "as stiff as a stake," as Sam
expressed it. The day before they had caught some water dripping from
the rocks, for drinking purposes, now they had to melt the ice over the
fire to get the liquid.

But the sun was shining brightly