led out of bitter cold to a soft couch in a warm room. A sense of
utter contentment stole upon him. For some moments he lost all his grip
on realities; time and circumstances and the object of his quest were
forgotten. Visions, momentary but very vivid, crowded upon him, and
among them, one of a girl whom he had kissed in the face of death. That
girl--Yes, there was something. His mind asserted itself again, his
purpose dominated his wavering faculties, and he staggered to his feet.

"Helen!" he muttered. "Helen!"

He faced the bank of the stream on the other side from that which had
caused his downfall. Then he paused. There was something--twenty
seconds passed before he remembered. His rifle! It was somewhere in the
snow, he must find it, for he might yet have need of it. He groped
about, and presently recovered it; then after considering for a moment,
instead of ascending to the level, he began to walk downstream,
sheltered by the high banks. It was not so cold in the hollow, and
though a smother of sand-like particles of snow blew at the level of
his head, by stooping he was able to escape the worst of it. His numbed
faculties began to assert themselves again. The struggle through the
deep soft snow, out of reach of the wind's bitter breath, sent a glow
through him. His brain began to work steadily. He could not be far from
the bluff now, and the stream would lead him to the lake. How much time
he had lost he did not know, and he was in a sweat of fear lest he
should be too late after all. As he struggled on, he did not even
wonder what was the meaning of the attack that he had witnessed; one
thing only was before his eyes, the vision of the girl he loved
helpless in the face of unknown dangers.

The banks of the stream lowered and opened suddenly. The withering
force of the blast struck him, the snow buffeted him, and for a moment
he stood held in his tracks, then the wind momentarily slackened, and
dimly through the driving snow he caught sight of something that loomed
shadowlike before him. It was the bluff that he was seeking, and as he
moved towards it, the wind broken, grew less boisterous, though a
steady stream of fine hard snow swept down upon him from its height.
The snow blanketed everything, and he could see nothing; then he heard
a dog yelp and stumbled forward in the direction of the sound. A minute
later, in the shelter of some high rocks, he saw a camp-fire, beside
which a team of dogs in harness h