mbed back with blood colouring the
rain in his face, and found another pole. Again, approaching the point,
the four men on the end of the tracking-line crawling slowly around the
edge of a steepish bank, were by a sudden heave of the _Loseis_ all four
jerked into the water. Instantly picking themselves up, they scrambled
ahead with their line through the breakers. Garth's heart warmed over
the half-fed, half-clad boys. Not one of the eight faltered for an
instant, and in the midst of their superhuman labours they could still
be shouting at each other.

A reef ran out beyond the point; and how they ever got over this, or
how long it took, none could have told. By that time they were merely
insensate machines striving automatically against a mighty inhuman
adversary. The _Loseis's_ ribs yielded and trembled under the renewed
blows on the stones. Dizzy and blind with fatigue they struggled ahead;
but they would never have made it, had not the wind hauled still further
around. Finally a wave greater than any preceding lifted them clear of
the stones, and dropped them in smooth water inside. For a while, unable
to realize they had rounded the point, they continued to struggle; then
the _Loseis_ gently beached herself. The tracking crew scrambled aboard,
and all hands dropped where they stood for a breathing spell.

Soon after the storm showed signs of abating. In the end it ceased
almost as abruptly as it had begun; and the moon looked wanly forth, as
if ashamed for the recent disturbances aloft. Garth, thinking of Grylls
and Hooliam lying on the beach around the point, consulted with Charley
what had better be done. It took them about three seconds to arrive at a
decision.

"It is between eight and ten miles to the head of the lake," Charley
said.

"Let them walk it then," said Garth coolly.

Presently the same breeze resumed its gentle course up the lake as if
there had been no such thing as a storm. Tired as they were, it was too
good to lose; and with hoisted sail, the _Loseis_ forged through the
rapidly subsiding waters, with Charley at the helm. The breed boys asked
no questions. Having raised the sail, they promptly fell asleep. Hooliam
they had little regard for anyway; and Grylls they may have supposed was
still somewhere under the sail-cloths. In three hours they had reached
Grier's point, the navigable head of the lake; and all hands slept until
long after sunrise.

Garth and Natalie, meeting in the dayligh