n over his ears, was overlapped by
the collar of his coat. He carried a roll of blankets over his
shoulder and a pack on his back. As he came out into the sunshine he
looked fearfully about him. There stood the loaded sleigh quite
undisturbed. The harness alone was tumbled about by reason of the
wounded dog's struggles. And there was a pool of canine blood upon the
snow, and a faint trail of sanguinary hue leading from it. The man
eyed this and followed its direction until he saw the dog crouching
down further along the path. But he was not thinking of the dog. He
turned back to the sleigh, and his eyes wandered across, beyond it, to
the brink of the precipice. The only marks that had disturbed the
smooth white edge of the path were those which had tumbled the snow
where the dogs had been dragged to their fate. Otherwise there was no
sign.

The man stepped forward as though to look down to the depths below,
but, as he neared the edge, he halted shudderingly. Nor did his eyes
turn downwards, he looked around him, above him--but not down. He
gazed long and earnestly at the hard, cold, cloudless sky. His brow
frowned with unpleasant thought. Then his lips moved, and he muttered
words that sounded as though he were endeavouring to justify his acts
to himself.

"The gold was mine--honestly mine. It was wrested from me. It may be
Christian to submit without retaliation. It is not human. What is a
neche's life--nothing. Pooh! An Indian life is of no value in this
country. Come on, let's go."

He spoke as though he were not alone. Perhaps he was addressing that
moral self of his which kept reminding him of his misdeeds. Anyhow, he
was uncomfortable, and his words told of it.

He stooped and adjusted his snow-shoes, after which he gripped his
long staff and slowly began his journey down the hill.

He quickly got into his stride, that forward, leaning attitude of the
snow-shoer; nor did he glance to the left or right.

Straight ahead of him he stared, over the jagged rampart of mountains
to the clear steely hue of the sky above. He was leaving the scene of
his crime; he wished also to leave its memory. He gave no heed to the
trail of blood that stained the whiteness of the snow beneath his
feet; his thoughts were not of the present--his present; his mind was
travelling swiftly beyond. The whining of the dog as he passed him
fell upon ears that were deaf to all entreaty.

The crystal-covered earth glided by him; the long,