ith lifted lantern and said
quietly:

"Chi-ho-ches-chee!"

"Wh-at!" exclaimed the girl, incredulous.

"What did he say?" asked Hamil.

"He says that he is lost!"

Hamil stared around in dismay; a dense white wall shut out everything;
the Indian's lantern at ten paces was invisible; he could scarcely see
Shiela unless she rode close enough to touch his elbow.

"Catch um camp," observed Little Tiger calmly. "Loose bridle! Bimeby
catch um camp. One horse lead. No be scared."

So Hamil dismounted and handed his bridle to the Indian; then Shiela
cast her own bridle loose across the pommel, and touching her horse with
both heels, rode forward, hands in her jacket pockets. And Hamil walked
beside her, one arm on the cantle.

Into blank obscurity the horse moved, bearing to the left--a direction
which seemed entirely wrong.

"Catch um camp," came the Indian's amused voice through the mist from
somewhere close behind.

"It doesn't seem to me that this is the right direction," ventured
Shiela doubtfully. "Isn't it absurd? Where are you, Mr. Hamil? Come
closer and keep in touch with my stirrup. I found you in a fog and I
really don't want to lose you in one."

She dropped one arm so that her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

"This is not the first mist we've been through together," he said,
laughing.

"I was thinking of that, too. They say the gods arrive and go in a mist.
Don't go."

They moved on in silence, the horse stepping confidently into the
crowding fog. Once Hamil stumbled over a root and Shiela's hand slipped
around his neck, tightening a moment. He straightened up; but her hand
slid back to his coat sleeve, resting so lightly that he could scarce
feel the touch.

Then the horse stumbled, this time over the tongue of the camp wagon.
Little Tiger was right; the horse had brought them back.

Hamil turned; Shiela swung one leg across the pommel and slipped from
her saddle into his arms.

"Have you been happy, Shiela?"

"You know I have.... But--you must release me."

"Perfectly happy?"

"Ah, yes. Don't you know I have?" ... And in a low voice: "Release me
now--for both our sakes."

She did not struggle nor did he retain her by perceptible force.

"Won't you release me?"

"Must I?"

"I thought you promised to help me--on the firing line?" She forced a
little laugh, resting both her hands on his wrists against her waist.
"You said," she added with an effort at lightness, "that we are und