g used.

Under the direction of Callack three of the Indians were making the
final fastenings of the bonds, when there suddenly arose a disturbance
among the others, who were grouped about the sleds of the treasure
seekers. There were loud voices, and then angry cries.

"Those imps are fighting!" muttered Callack. "I'll soon put a stop to
that!"

He caught up a heavy dog whip, and started down the side of the frozen
mound. The disturbance among the Indians became more fierce. Blows were
struck right and left, and several of the natives grappled with each
other, rolling over and over on the frozen snow.

"They're fighting over the possession of our things," said Fred.

"Yes, there won't be much left for us," observed Jerry. "But I don't
know as that makes much difference. We'll never get away from here to
use our things."

"Oh, maybe we will," remarked Fred, hopefully.

Callack sprang into the midst of the fighting Indians. He raised his
heavy whip, and the cruel lash fell left and right, but owing to the
heavy clothing of the natives, it produced little effect. The cries of
rage grew louder. The Indians were fairly tearing from each other's
hands the choice articles of food, and the other supplies belonging to
the captives.

The sight of their fellows in possession of what was to them unlimited
wealth was too much for the three savages who were binding the captives.
With one accord they dropped the thongs and leaped down the side of the
ice hummock.

For a moment, left thus comparatively alone and unguarded, the captives
did not know what to do. They watched the three Indians leap into the
midst of the fighting, yelling throng of their fellows, amid which
Callack stood, vainly plying his whip, as he would among a pack of dogs,
to restore order.

"Boys!" cried Mr. Baxter suddenly. "Here's our chance. Can you loosen
the thongs?"

As he spoke he exerted all his strength, and the partly-tied leather
strips about his hands came loose. A moment later Fred's arms were also
free. Jerry was more securely tied, but it did not take long for Fred
and Mr. Baxter to release him.

"Now help Johnson," said the old miner, turning to where the colored man
sat in the snow, just as he had been dropped when brought from the tent.

The thongs were quickly stripped from the negro.

"Stand up," cried Mr. Baxter, shaking the man, who seemed to be in a
daze. "Stand up! We're going to escape! It's our only chance, when
they're