from love
of adventure and a warm liking for his comrade.

"Well," he said, "I have no means except a small allowance which is so
tied up that it's difficult to borrow anything on it; but it's at your
disposal, as far as it goes. Suppose we keep on with our prospecting."

"If Clarke's mortgage doesn't stop me, I might raise a few dollars on
my farm," Benson volunteered. "I'll throw it in, with pleasure,
because I'm pretty deep in your debt."

"Thanks," Harding responded. "I'm sorry I can't agree; but I wouldn't
take your offer when you first made it, and I can't do so now that my
plan's a failure. Anyway, we're doing some useless talking, because I
don't see how we're to go on prospecting, or get south again, when we
have only three or four days' food in hand."

He stated an unpleasant truth which the others had characteristically
shirked, for Blake was often careless, and Benson had taken the risks
of the journey with frank indifference. After nearly starving once or
twice, they had succeeded in getting fresh supplies; but now their
hearts sank: as they thought of the expanse of frozen wilderness that
lay between them and the settlements.

"Well," said Blake, "there's a Hudson Bay factory somewhere to the east
of us. I can't tell how far off it is, though it must be a long way,
but if we could reach it, the agent might take us in."

"How are you going to find the place?"

"I don't know; but a Hudson Bay post is generally fixed where there are
furs to be got. There will no doubt be Indians trapping in the
neighborhood, and we must take our chances of hitting their tracks."

"But we can't make a long march without food," Benson objected.

"The trouble is that we can't stay here without it," Blake pointed out
with a short laugh.

This was undeniable, and neither of his companions answered. They were
unkempt, worn out, and ragged; and in the past week they had traveled a
long way through fresh snow on short rations. Ahead of them lay a vast
and almost untrodden desolation; behind them a rugged wilderness which
there seemed no probability of their being able to cross. Lured by the
hope of finding what they sought, they had pushed on from point to
point; and now it was too late to return.

Presently Blake got up.

"Our best chance is to kill a caribou, and this is the kind of country
they generally haunt. The sooner we look for one, the better; so I may
as well start at once. There'll be a moon to-n