apsed since that terrific gust of wind had tumbled
the hut down on the river, for such the sheet of water proved to be.
Then had followed a tornado, or hurricane, or cyclone, the boys and the
old miner could not tell which. Hut and occupants had been carried
along the stream on the ice with the velocity of an express train.
From the river they had been swept out over a lake, and finally had
landed in a big bank of snow with a crash that had shattered the hut
into fragments.

All had been so shaken up that for some minutes nobody could speak.
The old miner was the first to recover and he had stumbled around until
he found Dick, who was holding poor Tom in his arms. Both of the
brothers had been pretty well pounded, but were otherwise uninjured by
their thrilling experience.

It was snowing again, the snow now coming down in regular "chunks" as
Dick said. The wind had gone down a little, but was still blowing
fiercely. All was dark around the remains of the hut.

"Sam! Sam!" yelled Dick, again and again, and staggered around in the
snow, searching for the missing one. Then he landed on the ice of the
lake and went flat on his back, and Jack Wumble came after him. As
they picked themselves up they heard a faint cry and caught sight of
Sam, lying but a few yards away.

"Are ye hurted any, lad?" asked Wumble, who was first at the youngest
Rover's side.

"I--I don't know," gasped Sam. "Some--something struck me on th--the
head."

With the assistance of the old miner and Dick he arose to his feet, and
all three staggered back to where Tom had been left. The ruins of the
hut rested against a snowbank, and, to get out of the wind, they
crawled between the logs and the snow.

"This is the worst yet," was Dick's comment. "How are we ever to find
our way back to Dawson from here?"

Nobody could answer that question. Just now they had all they could do
to keep warm.

"You stay here while I take a little look around," said Jack Wumble,
presently. "I may learn somethin' wuth knowin'."

"But don't get lost, Jack," cautioned Dick.

"I'll be careful," was the answer.

The old miner was gone less than ten minutes when he set up a shout.

"What have you found?" asked Dick, quickly.

"Here's a signboard," was the reply. "I reckon as how there's a trail
here. It says somethin', but I can't make it out."

"Let's light a torch," suggested Sam, and this was done. They brushed
the snow from the signboard and re