away. Now he discovered
that it had stopped snowing. All around him the country was a hilly,
rolling prairie. The cut ran through a hill which seemed to be higher
than others in the neighbourhood. If he could get on top of it he might
see where he was. Although day was ending it was not yet dark and Henry
decided upon an exploration.

Now he could not walk on foot in that deep and drifted snow without
sinking over his head under ordinary conditions, but his troop had done
a great deal of winter work, and strapped alongside of his big,
telescope grip were a pair of snow-shoes which he himself had made, and
with the use of which he was thoroughly familiar.

"I mustn't spoil this new suit," he told himself, so he ran to the
baggage-room of the car, opened his trunk, got out his Scout uniform and
slipped into it in a jiffy. "Glad I ran in that 'antelope dressing
race,'" he muttered, "but I'll beat my former record now." Over his
khaki coat he put on his heavy sweater, then donned his wool cap and
gloves, and with his snow-shoes under his arm hurried back to the rear
platform. The snow was on a level with the platform. It rose higher as
the coach reached into the cut. He saw that he would have to go down
some distance before he could turn and attempt the hill.

He had used his snow-shoes many times in play but this was the first
time they had ever been of real service to him. Thrusting his toes into
the straps he struck out boldly.

[Illustration: "Thrusting his toes into the straps he struck out
boldly."]

To his delight he got along without the slightest difficulty although
he strode with great care. He gained the level and in ten minutes found
himself on the top of the hill, where he could see miles and miles of
rolling prairie. He turned himself slowly about, to get a view of the
country.

As his glance swept the horizon, at first it did not fall upon a single,
solitary thing except a vast expanse of snow. There was not a tree even.
The awful loneliness filled him with dismay. He had about given up when,
in the last quarter of the horizon he saw, perhaps a quarter of a mile
away, what looked like a fine trickle of blackish smoke that appeared to
rise from a shapeless mound that bulged above the monotonous level.

"Smoke means fire, and fire means man," he said, excitedly.

The sky was rapidly clearing. A few stars had already appeared.
Remembering what he had learned on camp and trail, he took his bearing
by th