our horse in the stable?" he demanded sharply a second time, while
his friend began, with exasperating composure, to assure him that it
was, but that the horse was not his.

"Cloudbrow is its owner," he said, "and you know if anything happens to
it he will ---. Stay, I will get you lantern--"

He stopped, for Dechamp, observing a large key hanging on the wall, had
seized it and rushed out of the hut without waiting for a lantern.

"Strange, how easy some men get into a fuss!" remarked La Certe to his
surprised, but quiet, spouse as he lighted a large tin lantern, and went
to the door. Looking out with an expression of discomfort, he put on
his cap, and prepared to face the storm in the cause of humanity. He
held the lantern high up first, however, and peered under it as if to
observe the full extent of the discomfort before braving it. Just then
a furious gust blew out the light.

"Ha! I expected that," he said, with a sigh that was strongly
suggestive of relief, as he returned to the fire to relight the lantern.

On going the second time to the door he observed the form of his friend
leading the horse past--both of them looking dim and spectral through
the driving snow.

"Dechamp have good eyes!" he remarked, halting on the threshold. "There
is light enough without the lantern; besides--ha! there, it is out
again! What a trouble it is! Impossible to keep it in--such a night!"

"Hee! hee!" giggled Slowfoot, who was busy refilling her pipe.

La Certe was still standing in a state of hesitancy, troubled by a
strong desire to help his friend, and a stronger desire to spare
himself, when he was thrown somewhat off his wonted balance by the
sudden reappearance of Dechamp, leading, or rather supporting, a man.

Need we say that it was Fergus McKay, almost blind and dumb from
exhaustion, for the parting from Dan Davidson which we have mentioned
had proved to be the last straw which broke them both down, and it is
probable that the frozen corpse of poor Dan would have been found next
day on the snow, had he not been accidentally met by Dechamp, and taken
in charge by the Indian Okematan. Fergus, having a shorter way to go,
and, perhaps, possessing a little more vitality or endurance, had just
managed to stagger to La Certe's hut when he encountered the same man
who, an hour previously, had met and saved his companion further down
the Settlement.

The moment Fergus entered the hut, he looked wildly round, and