be there?"

"Wan sight, mebbe."

Jean had learned that these Indians measured short distances according
to sight, and that they said "one sight," "two sights," "three sights,"
instead of miles. She now knew that the A-jem-sek, whatever that river
might be, was not far away, and that it must be a branch of the St.
John. And between the two, farther on, were the King's mast-cutters.
Her hopes rose high. How good it would be to see white men she could
trust. They would help her to reach home, she felt certain.

They were moving down a gentle slope now, and making fair progress.
Suddenly Sam stopped, and examined strange straggling tracks in the
snow. Kitty and Jean also looked, the latter asking what they meant.

"White man," Sam explained. "No snow-shoe."

"Are they slashers?" Jean anxiously enquired.

Sam shook his head, and examined the tracks more closely.

"No slasher, no snow-shoe," he said. "Funny track, all sam' lost."

As they proceeded, they came across other tracks, showing where men had
been walking through the snow, wandering here and there, in an
apparently aimless manner. Sam became very curious now, as well as
cautious. He took the musket from Kitty, and carried it in readiness
for any emergency. Jean was quite excited, and peered keenly ahead,
not knowing what to expect next.

Except for the creaking of the snow-shoes, not a sound did they make as
they sped onward, and in about half an hour the trees seemed suddenly
to part and present an open space to their view. It was the A-jem-sek,
a narrow stream connecting Lake K'tchi-kwis-pam with the Wu-las-tukw,
so Sam explained to Jean. As they stepped out upon this river they saw
two men but a short distance away, drawing a small sled loaded with
wood, who stared with startled amazement at the sudden appearance of
the three travellers.

CHAPTER XXII

IN DESPERATE STRAITS

As they advanced toward where the two men were standing, Jean was
somewhat afraid lest they might be slashers. This fear, however, was
at once removed when she beheld their pitiable condition. Their
clothes were in tatters, and their bearded faces were drawn and
haggard. They stared at her with eyes from which all hope had fled,
and so weak did they seem that they could hardly stand. Their backs
were bent as if through age, and they rested their hands upon the
loaded sled for support. As Jean paused, smitten by a sudden feeling
of awe, one of the men wearil