d a light meal, after which all hands lay
down for an hour, with the exception of Anvik, who sat bunched in his
now familiar brooding position, gazing off into space. As he sat thus,
his far-seeing eyes discovered something, but he did not change
countenance. He simply sat in dreamy-eyed silence. Perhaps what he saw
did not interest him. A column of white smoke had attracted his
attention. Promptly on the expiration of the hour that the boys had
given themselves to sleep, Anvik stepped briskly to them, shaking each
one by the shoulder.

"Mush!" he grunted with each shake.

"I wish you wouldn't say that," grumbled Stacy. "It makes me think I'm
going to have breakfast."

"Heap big mush. Big snow, big mountain," grunted the Innuit, with a
sweeping gesture towards the towering peaks of the St. Elias range which
they were now entering.

"Have we got to go through that?" begged Walter anxiously.

"Um," replied the guide.

"But how shall we ever make it?"

"Mush."

"Yes, mush," jeered Chunky. "You just spread the mush over the mountain
side and slide. Don't you understand, Walt? My, but you are thick."

All that afternoon they fought their way through the rugged mountains,
making camp that night in a gloomy pass at the foot of Vancouver
Mountain, a vast pile that towered nearly fourteen thousand feet high.
It seemed to the Pony Rider Boys that they were a long way from
civilization, and Tad admitted that he would soon be lost were he
obliged to follow a trail up there.

The camp was made about six o'clock, still with broad daylight, but the
boys considered that they had done enough for one day. The ponies were
weary and Tad knew better than to press them too hard. After supper the
freckle-faced boy shouldered his rifle.

Anvik gave him a glance of inquiry.

"Where are you going?" demanded the Professor.

"I'm going to 'mush' a little way up the pass to see if I can't get
something worth while for our breakfast."

"You will get lost."

"No, that will not be possible. So long as I keep in the pass I shall be
all right. Don't worry; I'll keep in the pass all right."

The boy plunged into the thick undergrowth, and no sooner had he done so
than the giant mosquitoes and black gnats attacked him in force. Tad
fought them until he grew tired of it, then he trudged on grimly,
permitting them to do their worst. After a time he decided that he would
get no game if he remained down in the pass, so, after carefully ta