ell. Baree had come nearer. He
was not more than a quarter of a mile behind. It was three o'clock when
they struck off the lake into the edge of the forest to the northwest.
The sun had grown cold and pale. The snow crystals no longer sparkled so
furiously. In the forest there was gathering a gray, silent gloom. They
halted again in the edge of that gloom. The Missioner slipped off his
mittens and filled his pipe with fresh tobacco. The pipe fell from his
fingers and buried itself in the soft snow at his feet. As he bent down
for it Father Roland said quite audibly:

"_Damn!_"

He was smiling when he rose. David, also, was smiling.

"I was thinking," he said--as though the other had demanded an
explanation of his thoughts--"what a curious man of God you are, _mon
Pere_!"

The Little Missioner chuckled, and then he muttered, half to himself as
he lighted the tobacco, "True--very true." When the top of the bowl was
glowing, he added: "How are your legs? It is still a good mile to the
shack."

"I am going to make it or drop," declared David.

He wanted to ask a question. It had been in his mind for some time, and
he burned with a strange eagerness to have it answered. He looked back,
and saw Baree circling slowly over the surface of the lake toward the
forest. Casually he inquired:

"How far is it to Tavish's, _mon Pere_?"

"Four days," said the Missioner. "Four days, if we make good time, and
another week from there to God's Lake. I have paid Tavish a visit in
five days, and once Tavish made God's Lake in two days and a night with
seven dogs. Two days and a night! Through darkness he came--darkness and
a storm. That is what fear will do, David. Fear drove him. I have
promised to tell you about it to-night. You must know, to understand
him. He is a strange man--a very strange man!"

He spoke to Mukoki in Cree, and the Indian responded with a sharp
command to the dogs. The huskies sprang from their bellies and strained
forward in their traces. The Cree picked his way slowly ahead of them.
Father Roland dropped in behind him. Again David followed the sledge. He
was struck with wonder at the suddenness with which the sun had gone
out. In the thick forest it was like the beginning of night. The deep
shadows and darkly growing caverns of gloom seemed to give birth to new
sounds. He heard the _whit_, _whit_, _whit_, of something close to him,
and the next moment a great snow owl flitted like a ghostly apparition
over