e me back to The Jug again!"

Many times he repeated this to himself. Then there came to him
something Thomas had once said when the mist was clouding his eyes:

"Have plenty o' grit, lad, and a stout heart like a man."

This comforted and strengthened him, and, like the prayer, he repeated
it over and over again to himself as he lay watching the silent men.
For a long time he watched them and the fire beyond, and the falling
snow and the black wall of the forest. Finally tired nature came to
his relief. His eyes closed and he fell into a troubled sleep.

CHAPTER XVII

LOST IN A BLIZZARD

After a time Jamie awoke. The two men were still sitting by the fire
and were again drinking from the bottle. He was uncomfortable in his
cramped position, but dared not move, and he lay very still and
watched the men and the fire and the black wall of the mysterious,
trackless forest beyond. Shadows rose and fell and flitted in and out
of the circle of firelight. Weird and uncanny they seemed, taking
strange forms like dancing spirits. In the darkness outside the
firelight and moving shadows Jamie fancied that terrible ghoulish
forms were stalking stealthily and grinning maliciously at him.

For a long while Jamie lay awake and watched. Again and again the men
drank from the bottle, and when they spoke at intervals their voices
sounded unnatural and thick. Once one of them arose to replenish the
fire, and he moved unsteadily upon his feet, at which the little lad
marvelled, for he was a large, strong man. Presently Jamie's eyes
drooped again, and once more he slept.

When he again awoke dawn was breaking. Snow was falling heavily. The
two men were in a deep sleep. The fire had died down to a bed of
coals, and Jamie was shivering with the cold.

His arms were numb, and his body and limbs ached from the cramped
position in which he lay because of his bound arms and feet. With some
effort he turned over, and this brought him some relief, but not for
long, and presently he rolled back to his original position that he
might see the red coals of the fire.

Jamie tried to move his hands, but his wrists were too firmly tied,
and the effort brought only pain. Then he lay still and studied the
smouldering fire. Behind it lay the remnants of a back log that had
been burned through in the centre. The inner ends of the log, where it
was separated, were, like the coals before it, red and glowing, and he
thought that if he could