fire, going farther and farther from the
cabin in his search for the proper materials. Long since, he had
chopped the broken and battered sledge out of the ice, and hauled
it home. But it was damaged beyond repair, the smooth boards that
made its riding surface having been broken and splintered hopelessly.
But there was still use for it. With remarkable ingenuity, he
fashioned a small sleigh, some four or five feet long. Then, from
the harness of the dead dogs, he made trappings for Mistisi, who,
apparently anxious to help in all he saw going on around him, took
to them kindly. After this, it was easy work to gather wood,
however far distant. The dog made regular round trips from the
cabin to the spot where the man was at work, and shortly a great
pile of wood formed a wind-break for the shanty.

Jean Fitzpatrick now attended to the fishing alone, and what they
did not use for food was packed away out of Mistisi's eager reach
in the preserving cold. The rabbit-snares with two settings yielded
three or four of the animals every day, and these, skinned and
cleaned, added to the store of reserve food.

The otter-trap worked successfully, but required repairing after
each catch, so that it was scarcely worth the trouble of setting,
since rabbits and fish continued plentiful. One night, however,
after a series of sharp sniffs at the door while the rabbit was
broiling, and the discovery of padded prints in the snow next day,
Donald worked more carefully over the contrivance, and set it to
catch larger game--for bob-cats were about.

The evenings, too, were busy, for the rabbit skins must be cured.
Donald hewed out a wedge-shaped slab of cedar. This he spliced.
Then into a pelt, with the fur side turned in, he shoved this slab,
forcing into the splicing a smaller wedge of wood. Hammering this,
the larger block widened, and thus stretched the skin. When the
proper tautness was obtained, he fixed the pelt to another board
with pegs of wood, and hung it to dry.

Now, there were a number of these skins, and Jean wished to satisfy
her longing for privacy. A tiny rabbit-bone, whittled to a point,
and rabbit sinews, white and tough and secured with great difficulty,
supplied the means. So, for several days, she sewed the skins
together, and at last hung before her bed of boughs a heavy curtain.

Two weeks passed, and the man and girl had successfully set the
vicious world at naught. Their supplies were piling up fast, and
the