ed bravely on to the south-west.
Could they but reach the river's bank, they might find fish and fresh
water and still live.

On the seventh night they halted in a small grove of stunted trees,
after a long day's travel, worn out with fatigue and hunger. The
Indian had not, for the last five days, had a morsel of food, and was
terribly emaciated; the others had fasted three days, and were almost
as much reduced and enfeebled. They had scarcely sufficient strength
among them to cut down wood for their fire, and collect and melt the
ice to slake their thirst; when they had heaped up a small bank of
snow, as shelter against the wind, they lay down almost helpless. A
few carrion moose-birds which had followed them for the last day, but
always out of reach of the guns, chattered among the trees. These
ill-omened visitors came closer and closer, as they saw the group
lying motionless, and chattered and hopped from branch to branch over
head, impatient for their prey. Meynell, making the exertion with
difficulty, cautiously seized his gun; but as he moved, the carrion
birds flew up into the air, and circled screaming above him; when he
became still, then again they approached. At last, by skilfully
watching his opportunity, he brought one of them down with a lucky
shot, and pounced on it greedily. The carrion and scanty spoil was
soon divided into three portions, and their share ravenously devoured
by the two men. After a little time they became deadly sick, the fire
spun round and round before their eyes, but at length Meynell fell
back in a heavy and almost death-like sleep. Atawa had just strength
enough left to fold the blanket close round the sleeper, and cast a
little more wood on the fire, when she too sank down exhausted.

The Indian had till now borne the pangs of hunger with courage and
patience, but the morsel of food--the taste of blood, seemed to work
like intoxication upon him. As his sickness passed away, his eyes
glowed in their deep sockets, with a fierce and unnatural brightness.
His cheeks were withered up, and his black parched lips drawn back,
exposed his teeth in a horrible grin. Possessed with a momentary
strength, he raised himself on his hands and knees, and, grasping an
axe, moved stealthily towards the sleeper, madly thirsting for his
blood. Atawa saw him coming, and guessed his terrible intent; she
shook Meynell faintly, and called to him to awake. He slowly opened
his eyes, and thought it but a h