of wind brought a scurry of snow in their faces, and Benard
looked anxiously up into the sky.

"By-an'-by it snow like anythin', m'sieu. We must race to catch Chigmok
b'fore it come."

Without another word he stepped ahead, and began to make the trail for
the dogs, whilst Stane took the gee-pole to guide the sledge. Benard
bent to his task and made a rattling pace, travelling in a bee-line for
their quarry, since the lake's surface offered absolutely no
obstructions. Stane at the gee-pole wondered how long he could keep it
up, and from time to time glanced at the sled ahead, which, seen from
the same level, now was half-hidden in a mist of snow. He noted with
satisfaction that they seemed to be gaining on it; and rejoiced to
think that, as Jean Benard's dogs were in fine mettle and absolutely
fresh, they could not be long before they overhauled it. Presently the
trapper stopped to rest, and Stane himself moved ahead.

"I will take a turn at trail-breaking," he said, "and do you run
behind, Jean."

It was a different matter going ahead of the dogs on the unbroken snow.
In a little time his muscles began to ache intolerably. It seemed as if
the ligaments of the groin were being pulled by pincers, and the very
bone of the leg that he had broken, seemed to burn with pain. But
again, as on the previous night, he set his teeth, and defied the
dreaded _mal de roquette_. New hope sustained him; before him, within
sight as he believed, was the girl, whom, in the months of their
wilderness sojourn, he had learned to love, and who on the previous
night (how long ago it seemed!) in the face of imminent death, had
given herself to him unreservedly. His blood quickened at the
remembrance. He ignored the pangs he was enduring. The sweat, induced
by the violent exertion froze on eyebrows and eyelashes, but he ignored
the discomfort, and pressed on, the snow swirling past his ankles in a
miniature storm. Twice or thrice he lifted his bent head and measured
the distance between him and the quarry ahead. It was, he thought
nearer, and cheered, he bent his body again to the nerve-racking toil.

Half an hour passed, and though the wind was rising steadily, blowing
straight in their teeth and adding greatly to their labours, the snow
kept off. They were still gaining slowly, creeping forward yard by
yard, the men with the train ahead apparently unaware of their pursuit.
Then they struck the trail made by their quarry and the work becam