rs, then
in the shelter of a cliff crowned with trees he called a halt.

"We rest here," he said, "an' wait for zee daylight. Den we look down
on zee lak' of zee Leetle Moose. We mak' fire behind zee rock."

Without more ado, he slipped the harness from the dogs and fed them,
whilst Stane collected wood for a fire, which was made as an Indian
makes his fire, small and round, and which, built behind a mass of
rock, was hidden from any one on the lake-side of the trail. Then a
meal was prepared of which both partook heartily; and over the pipes
they sat to await the dawn. After a little while Stane, in spite of his
consuming anxiety for Helen, under the genial warmth of the fire and
the fatigue induced by the strenuous march, began to nod, and at last
fell sound asleep. But Jean Benard watched through the night, a look of
hopelessness shadowing his kindly face.

CHAPTER XIX

A HOT TRAIL

The cold Northland dawn had broken when Stane was roused from his sleep
by the voice of his companion.

"M'sieu! m'sieu! It ees time to eat!"

Stane rubbed his eyes and looked round. Then he stood upright and
stretched himself, every stiff muscle crying out against the process.
He looked at the waiting breakfast and then at Benard. One glance at
the drawn face of the latter told him that he had not slept, but he
refrained from comment on the fact, knowing well what thoughts must
have made sleep impossible for him.

"Have you seen anything yet, Jean?" he asked as he seated himself
again.

"Not yet, m'sieu," answered the trapper. "But eef Chief George did not
lie we cannot miss Chigmok--an zee oders."

"But if he lied?" asked Stane with a sudden accession of anxiety.

"Then we shall haf to range an' find zee trail. But I do not tink he
lie. He too mooch afraid! Eat, m'sieu, den we can watch zee lak' for
zee comin' of Chigmok."

Stane ate his breakfast quickly, and when he had finished, accompanied
Benard a little way up the trail, which running along the base of the
cliff by which they had camped, made a sudden turn between the rocks
and unexpectedly opened out on a wide view.

Before him lay the snow-covered lake of the Little Moose, a narrow lake
perhaps fifteen miles long. On one side ran a range of high rocky
hills, a spur of which formed his own vantage place, and on the other
side were lower hills covered with bush and trees almost to their
crests. From the height where he stood he had an almost bird's-eye vie