d of a scramble, became in places a wild
glissade, and no beast of burden but a mountain pack-horse could have
kept its footing ten minutes. Dark pines rose up from beneath them and
faded back of them, here and there a scarred rock or whitened boulder
flitted by, and then Millicent's sight was dimmed by a whirling haze of
snow. How long the descent lasted she did not know. She could see
nothing through the maze of eddying flakes but that a figure, magnified
by them to gigantic proportions, rode close beside her, until they left
the cloud behind and wound along the face of a declivity, which dipped
into empty blackness close beneath.

Suddenly her horse stumbled; there was a flounder and a shock, and
Millicent felt herself sliding very swiftly down a long slope of
crusted snow. Hoarse with terror, she screamed once, then something
seized and held her fast, and she rose, shaking in every limb, to cling
breathless to the guide.

"Hurt bad?" he gasped. "No!--I'm mighty glad. Snow slide must have
gouged part of the trail out. Can you hold up a minute while I 'tend
to the horse?"

"I don't think I am much hurt," stammered Millicent, whose teeth were
chattering, and the man floundering back a few paces, stooped over a
dark object that struggled in the snow. She fancied that he fumbled at
his belt, after which there was a horrible gurgle, and he returned
rubbing his fingers suggestively with a handful of snow.

"Poor brute's done for--I had to settle him," he explained. "It will
cost you--but we can fix that when we get through. I'll have to change
your saddle, and the sooner we get on the better. Won't keep you five
minutes, ma'am."

Millicent felt very cold and sick, for the unfortunate horse still
struggled feebly, while the gurgle continued, and she was devoutly
thankful when they continued their journey. The traveling was, if
possible, more arduous than before. At times they forced a passage
through climbing forest, and again over slopes of treacherous shale
where a snow slide had plowed a great hollow in the breast of the hill.
The puffs of snow which once more met them grew thicker until Millicent
was sheeted white all over. At last the man said:

"It can't be far off daylight and I'm mighty thankful. I've lost my
bearings, but we're on a trail, which must lead to somewhere, at last.
Stick tight to your saddle and I'll bring you through all right, ma'am."

Millicent was too cold to answer. A blast