s," Carteret said huskily, as he
wiped the perspiration from his brow.

We turned back and were pulled up short within twenty feet. For in front
of us, stretching two-thirds of the way across the valley, was a lofty
barrier of snow, trees and bowlders; its track down the hillside was
marked by a clean, wide swath, the beginning of which we could not see.
And deep under the fallen mass, covered by tons and tons of compact
debris, was the crushed body of Hiram Buckhorn.

"He could not have a better grave," said Captain Rudstone. "No men or
beasts will ever despoil it."

"Peace to his bones!" replied Carteret, reverently taking off his cap.
"He deserved to live, after what he did."

"But the gold!" I cried. "It is buried with him!"

"And there it will stay," Captain Rudstone said coolly. "Even when the
snow melts in the spring, it will be covered deep by rocks and trees
that no man could drag away."

The old voyageur appeared equally unconcerned. Money meant little to
him, and I could understand the captain taking as easy a view of the
loss. But with myself it way different, I confess. I looked forward to
marriage, and for Flora's sake I longed for my share of the precious
nuggets. But there was nothing to be done--nothing further to be said.
With a heavy heart I turned and followed my companions down the valley.
We quickly cut the deer apart, burdening ourselves with the choicest
haunches, and then set off on our return to the fort.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A CONVIVIAL MORNING.

It must have been an hour past midnight when we broke from the forest
into the clearing, and as we strode across toward the stockade we noted
with relief that all was still and peaceful. Malcolm Cameron greeted us
at the gate, and we passed on to receive a hearty welcome at the house.
With the exception of Pemecan, our comrades were all awake, sprawled
about a blazing tire, and at sight of the meat we carried they set up a
great shout.

"Hush! you will rouse Miss Hatherton!" said I, for I saw that she had
retired.

However, I doubt if she had slept a wink; and no sooner was there a lull
in the conversation than she called from the little room adjoining, in a
hesitating voice:

"Have you returned, Denzil?"

"Yes," I replied. "I am back, safe and sound, and with a fat deer for
breakfast. But go to sleep at once; it is very late."

"I will," Flora answered. "Good-night, Denzil."