him out. They ran when they found out what was there, but he bagged
two of them with his rifle."

"I don't believe even timber wolves would have wakened me this morning.
I never was so stiff and used up in my life," Maurice commented on this
tale of adventure.

"Yes, we need the rest," said Mac. "We overdid it yesterday, and we
couldn't have gone far to-day in any case."

"But meanwhile that man at the cabin may be dying," exclaimed Fred.

"If he's dead it can't be helped," responded the Scotchman. "We're
doing all that's humanly possible. But if he's alive, don't forget
that he can't get away while this storm lasts, any more than we can."

"Well, it looks as if the storm would last all day," said Fred, gazing
upwards.

The blizzard did last all that day, reaching its height toward the
middle of the afternoon, but it was not extremely cold, and the boys
were fairly comfortable. They lounged on the blankets in the shelter
of the camp, and recuperated from their fatigue, discussing their
chances of still reaching the cabin in time to do any good. None of
them could guess accurately how far they had come in that terrible
night, but at the worst they could not think the cabin more than forty
miles farther. This distance would have to be traveled on snowshoes,
however, not skates, and none of the boys were very expert snowshoers.
It would be certainly more than one day's tramp.

Toward night the wind lessened, though it was still snowing fast. The
boys piled on logs enough to keep the fire smouldering all night in
spite of the snowflakes, and went to sleep under cover of the hemlock
roof. Maurice awoke toward the middle of the night, and noticed
drowsily that it had stopped snowing, and that a star or two was
visible overhead.

Next morning dawned sparkling clear and very cold, with not a breath of
wind. Everything was deep and fluffy with the fresh snow, and when the
sun came up the glare was almost blinding. It would be good weather
for snowshoe travel, and the boys all felt fit again for another hard
day.

After breakfast, therefore, they packed the supplies upon the toboggan,
unscrewed the steel runners, and put on the new snowshoes.

"We'd better stick to the river," Peter remarked. "It may make it a
little farther, but it gives us a clear road, and if we follow the
river we can't miss the cabin."

"No danger of going through air-holes in the ice?" queried Fred.

"Not much. An air-hole isn't