ce the advent of his
guests. Perhaps it was the result of the ample supplies of canned
provisions which the two men had lavished unsparingly upon him. His
face was less cadaverous; the deep searing furrows were less
pronounced. Altogether there was a marked improvement in this solitary
dweller in the wild. Now he was discussing the prospects of the
weather, whilst he partook liberally of the food set before him.

"These things aren't like most storms," he said. "They blow themselves
out and have done with it. They don't come back on you with a change
of wind. That isn't the way of the blizzard. We've got a clear spell
of a fortnight and more before us--with luck. Now, which way may you
be taking, gentlemen? Are you going to head through the mountains for
the main trail, or are you going to double on your tracks?"

"We are going back," said Grey, with unpleasant emphasis. Any allusion
to his mistake of the road annoyed him.

Chillingwood turned his head away and hid a smile.

"I think you will do well," replied the trapper largely. "I know these
hills, and I should be inclined to hark back to where you missed the
trail. I hope to cover twenty miles myself to-day."

"Your traps will be buried, I should say," suggested Robb.

"I'm used to that," replied the tall man quietly. "Guess I shan't have
much difficulty with 'em." He permitted himself the suspicion of a
smile.

Grey drew out his pipe and leisurely loaded it. Robb followed suit.
Mr. Zachary Smith pushed his tin pannikin away from before him and
leaned back.

"Going to smoke?" he asked. "Guess I'll join you. No, not your plug,
thanks. I'm feeling pretty good. My weed'll do me. You don't fancy to
try it?"

"T. and B.'s good enough for me," said Grey, with a smile. "No, I
won't experiment."

Smith held his pouch towards Chillingwood.

"Can I?"

Robb shook his head with a doubtful smile.

"Guess not, thanks. What's good enough for my chief is good enough for
me."

The trapper slowly unfolded an antelope hide pouch of native
workmanship. He emptied out a little pile of greenish-brown flakes
into the palm of his hand. It was curious, dusty-looking stuff,
suggestive of discoloured bran. This he poured into the bowl of a
well-worn briar, the mouthpiece of which he carefully and with
accuracy adjusted into the corner of his mouth.

"If you ever chance to have the experience I have had in these
mountains, gentlemen," he then went on slowly, as gathering i