rom the
Indian camp, drew his toboggan into the clearing in the centre of
which stood the river tilt. Its roof was scarcely visible in the
moonlight above the high drifted snow. He had hoped that some of the
others might have arrived before him, but no smoke issued from the
pipe, and fresh drifted, untrodden snow around the door told him that
he was the first.

It was fearfully cold. Rime filled the air. The deerskin coat which
Manikawan had given him, and which he wore, was thick coated with
frost.

He paused before the door and stood for a moment to painfully pick
away the ice that had accumulated upon his eyelashes, partially
closing his eyelids, and discovered that his nose and cheeks were
frost-bitten. He drew his right hand from its mitten, and holding his
nose in the bare palm, covered the exposed hand with the mittened palm
of the other, quickly rubbing the frosted parts with the warm palm to
restore circulation.

Presently, satisfied that the frost had been removed from nose and
cheeks, he kicked off his snowshoes, shovelled the accumulated snow
from the doorway with one of them, set the snowshoes on end in the
snow at one side, and entering the tilt lighted a candle and kindled a
fire in the stove.

Taking the kettle from the stove and an axe from a corner, he passed
out of the tilt and down to the river, chopped open the water hole,
filled the kettle, and returning set it over to heat.

Unpacking his toboggan and stowing the things away, he leaned it end
up against the tilt, brought a bucket of water from the river for
culinary use, removed his deerskin coat, and settled down in the now
comfortable tilt to prepare supper and await his friends.

Presently he heard a movement outside, and a moment later Dick Blake
poked his head in at the door.

"Evenin', Bob," he greeted. "Glad t' see you. Th' tilt smells fine an'
warm! Where's Shad?" he asked, entering and rubbing his hands over the
stove.

"Stoppin' wi' th' Injuns. I were tryin' t' get he t' come back, but he
thinks he wants t' go huntin' deer with un, an' stays," explained Bob.
"Any fur?"

"Only one marten an' one otter, but they's good uns. No sign o' foxes.
But foxes won't stay when th' rabbits goes;" and Dick went out to
unpack.

Presently Bill Campbell arrived, and a little later Ed Matheson drew
his long form through the low doorway, his red beard laden with ice.

"Where's Shad?" he asked, after greetings were exchanged.

Bob explaine