s enemy. "But I wish to
heaven I could get up some of that heat just now. This cold is going to
be the death of me."

As he spoke he bumped into a small bushy spruce tree. "Hello! Here you
are, eh!" he cried, determined to be cheerful. "Glad to meet you. Hope
there are lots more of you." His hope was realised! A few more steps and
he found himself in the heart of a spruce thicket.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed. Then again--"Yes, thank God it is!" It
steadied his heart not a little to remember the picture in his mother's
Bible that had so often stirred his youthful imagination of One standing
in the fishing boat and bidding the storm be still. In the spruce
thicket he stood some moments to regain his breath and strength.

"Now what next?" he asked himself. Although the thicket broke the force
of the wind, something must be done, and quickly. Night was coming on
and that meant an even intenser cold. His hands were numb. His hunting
jacket was but slight protection against the driving wind and the
bitter cold. If he could only light a fire! A difficult business in this
tumultuous whirlwind and snow. He had learned something of this art,
however, from his winter's experience. He began breaking from the spruce
trees the dead dry twigs. Oh for some birch bark! Like a forgotten
dream it came to him that from the tree top he had seen above the spruce
thicket the tops of some white birch trees purpling under the touch of
spring.

"Let's see! Those birches must be further to my left," he said,
recalling their position. Painfully he forced his way through the
scrubby underbrush. His foot struck hard against an obstruction that
nearly threw him to the ground. It was a jutting rock. Peering through
the white mass before his eyes, he could make out a great black,
looming mass. Eagerly he pushed forward. It was a towering slab of rock.
Following it round on the lee side, he suddenly halted with a shout of
grateful triumph. A great section had fallen out of the rock, forming a
little cave, storm-proof and dry.

"Thank God once more!" he said, and this time with even deeper
reverence. "Now for a fire. If I could only get some birch bark."

He placed his rifle in a corner of the cave and went out on his hunt.
"By Jove, I must hurry, or my hands will be gone sure." Looking upwards
in the shelter of the rock through the driving snow he saw the bare tops
of trees. "Birch, too, as I am alive!" he cried, and plunging through
the bushes ca