he stopped and
with wild, still frightened eyes gazed at the walls of snow that
surrounded him like an impassable barrier.

Then his brain began to function and his reason to return. He knew that
he must reach the cover of the forest, where the trees would shelter
him from the blasts that swept the marsh. There he would find some
measure of protection at least, and in any case the forest lay between
him and the cabin at Double Up Cove.

He recalled that time and again Toby had said to him, "Dad's wonderful
fine at gettin' out o' fixes, and he always does un by usin' his head."
And Skipper Zeb himself had said, "When a man gets into a fix 'tis
mostly because he don't use his head, and 'tis his head has to get he
out of un. His legs and his hands won't help he, unless his head tells
un what to do."

That was logical and reasonable. He was now in a "fix," and a worse fix
indeed than that in which he and Toby had found themselves on Swile
Island. Charley crouched with his back to the snow-laden blasts while he
tried to gather his senses and his poise, and these thoughts flashing
through his mind, gave him courage. It was bitterly cold and he knew
that he must soon find shelter or he would perish. In his mad panic, he
had not only lost knowledge of direction, but had expended much of his
strength.

Slowly it occurred to him that the wind blew across the marsh from the
direction of the forest and toward the barrens, and was in his back when
he followed the ptarmigans. This being the case, he reasoned, he must
_face_ the wind to regain the forest.

He was somewhere in the marsh. He knew that. The forest must lie _up_
the wind. It was suffocating and paralyzing work to face it, but in that
direction alone lay the only chance for escape and safety. His very life
depended upon reaching the forest, and reaching it soon, and he turned
boldly to it.

With renewed courage, he fought his way forward step by step. He would
walk but a little way, when dense snow clouds would force him to turn
his back upon them to regain his breath. But he kept going, now and
again stumbling and falling and then getting to his feet again to
stumble on a little farther. The distance seemed interminable, and
several times he was on the point of giving up the struggle in despair.

Then it was that he collided with a tree. An outpost of the forest! His
heart leaped with hope. With renewed vigour he plunged forward into wind
and snow cloud, and a m