ight a good fire.

At last we reached a wood, and immediately setting to work, collected
all the sticks we could find. We had no time to build a hut, and all we
could do was to put up a few slabs of birch-bark close to the fire,
creep in under them, and go supperless to bed.

I could not sleep for thinking of our dreary prospects. Pat's manner
too during the day had been very unusual, and caused me much anxiety:
the hardships we were enduring were evidently beginning to tell on him.
Strange to say, though I was so much younger, I bore them better than he
did. Pat, I must confess, at times had been too fond of "the crayther,"
which had, I concluded, somewhat weakened his constitution. He
frequently did not appear to know what we were doing or where we were
going, and spoke as if we were out only on a day's shooting excursion.
I had generally kept the gun in my own possession, as I was a better
shot than he was, and had more chance of killing any game we might come
across. Frequently he had declared that he saw buffalo and deer in the
distance, and wanted the gun to go in chase of them; but as I was very
sure that none were in sight, I had kept it till the idea wore off.
Twice I rose to make up the fire, the flames of which I kept watching
till they sank low. It was very important to keep it blazing, lest any
wolves, or a still more terrible grizzly bear, should find us out.

Finding myself at last dropping to sleep, I called Pat, and told him to
keep an eye on the fire.

"Of course," he answered; "don't be throubling yourself, Masther David."
And I saw him sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Trusting that he would
do as he promised, I lay back and quickly dropped off to sleep.

It was bright daylight when I awoke. On looking round I found that Pat
was not where I had last seen him. Supposing that he had awoke early,
and, unwilling to arouse me, had gone to collect some sticks to make up
the fire, I did not feel anxious. When, however, I got up and looked
round on every side, I could nowhere see him. Still fancying that he
could not have gone to any great distance, and would soon return, I
occupied myself in scraping the embers of the fire together.

At last, after waiting for some time, I became still more anxious. He
had, I found, taken the gun with him, but, strange to say, had left the
ammunition behind. This circumstance made me fear that he had lost his
senses, and had gone off, not knowing what he wa