d he noted the deep lines of the beautiful face and the
hollow circles beneath the closed eyes that told of the terrible
trail-strain.

"Sixty straight hours of _that_!" he exclaimed as his glance traveled
over the precarious river trail. Curbing his patience, he waited an
hour and then gently awoke the sleeping girl.

"Jeanne," he said as she gazed at him in bewilderment, "you need sleep.
I will go alone to the camp of Moncrossen." At the words she sprang to
her feet.

"No! No!" she cried; "I have slept. I am not tired. Come--to-day, and
to-night--and in the morning we come to the camp."

"We must go then," said Bill, and added more to himself than to Jeanne:
"I wonder if he would _dare_?"

"He would dare _anything_--that is not good!" the girl answered
quickly. "He has the bad heart. But Wa-ha-ta-na-ta will not starve
quickly. She is old and tough, and can go for many days without food;
as in the time of the famine when she refused to eat that we, her
children, might live.

"Even in times of plenty she eats but little, for she lives in the long
ago with Lacombie--in the days of her youth and--and happiness. For she
loved Lacombie, and--Lacombie--loved--her."

The girl's voice broke throatily, and she turned abruptly toward the
river.

The fine, drizzling rain, which had fallen steadily all through the
night, changed to a steady downpour that chilled them to the bone.

The stream of shallow water that flowed over the surface of the ice
swelled to a torrent, forcing them again and again to abandon the river
and slosh knee-deep through the saturated snow of the forest.

Broken ice cakes began to drift past--thick, black cakes which scraped
and ground together as they swung heavily in the current.

"The ice is going out!" cried the girl in dismay. "We can no longer
keep to the river!"

Bill's teeth clenched. "The breakup!" he groaned. "Moncrossen will go
out on the flood, and Wa-ha-ta-na-ta----"

He redoubled his efforts, fairly dragging the girl through the deep
slush. The rain was carrying off the snow with a rush. The gullies and
ravines were running bankful, and time and again the two were forced to
plunge shoulder-deep into the icy waters.

At noon they halted, and in the dripping shelter of a dense thicket
wolfed down a quantity of sodden bannock and raw bacon. The river rose
hourly, and the crash and grind of the moving ice thundered
continuously upon their ears.

Progress was slow and grueling.