white-furred animal.

The driving here on the open river was comparatively easy. Except
occasionally, the straight line could be adhered to. When it became
necessary to avoid an obstruction, Sam gave the command loudly,
addressing Billy as the lead dog.

"Hu, Billy!" he would cry.

And promptly Billy would turn to the right. Or:

"Chac, Billy!" he would cry.

And Billy would turn to the left, with always in mind the thought of the
long whip to recall his duty to man.

Then the other dogs turned after him. Claire, for her steadiness and
sense, had been made sledge-dog. Always she watched sagaciously to pull
the end of the sledge strongly away should the deviation not prove
sufficient. Later, in the woods, when the trail should become difficult,
much would depend on Claire's good sense.

Now shortly, far to the south, the sun rose. The gray world at once
became brilliant. The low frost haze,--invisible until now, to be
invisible all the rest of the day,--for these few moments of the level
beams worked strange necromancies. The prisms of a million ice-drops on
shrubs and trees took fire. A bewildering flash and gleam of jewels
caught the eye in every direction. And, suspended in the air, like the
shimmer of a soft and delicate veiling, wavered and floated a mist of
vapour, tinted with rose and lilac, with amethyst and saffron.

As always on the Long Trail, our travellers' spirits rose with the sun.
Dick lengthened his stride, the dogs leaned to their collars, Sam threw
back his shoulders, the girl swung the sledge tail with added vim. Now
everything was warm and bright and beautiful. It was yet too early in
the day for fatigue, and the first discomforts had passed.

But in a few moments Dick stopped. The sledge at once came to a halt.
They rested.

At the end of ten minutes Sam stepped to the front, and Dick took the
dog-whip. The young man's muscles, still weak from their long inaction,
ached cruelly. Especially was this true of the ligaments at the
groin--used in lifting high the knee,--and the long muscles along the
front of the shinbone,--by which the toe of the snow-shoe was elevated.
He found himself very glad to drop behind into the beaten trail.

The sun by now had climbed well above the horizon, but did little to
mitigate the cold. As long as the violent movement was maintained a warm
and grateful glow followed the circulation, but a pause, even of a few
moments, brought the shivers. And always the f