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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1916-06-08, Page 7June 8th, 1916 VRS Lai C� ro al&Sr Vii. ccS'5 I l'7n 1il1',M,.{�'1vSI',c..'S�"'c S 0 THE WINGHAM TIMES . to ?'he HONOR. of THE BIG SNOWS By JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD Copyright 1911 by the Bobbs-Merrill Co. PWLWal 5i�a.,Sr�r�Si�' rrsrf 5' *; 1,3"S'c 5 rel t legSvS sssl CHAPTER XI. Her Promise Kept. AN went from the cabin. Jean de Gravois and lowaka were watch- , aj ing for him, and Jean hurried across the open to meet him. "1 ant coming to offer you the loan of my razor," he cried gaily. "lowaka says that you will be taken for a bear if the trappers see you." •'A beard is good to keep off the black flies," replied Jan. "It is approaching • summer and the black files love to feast upon me. Let us go down the trail, Jean. 1 want to speak with you." Where there had been wood cutting • la the deep spruce they sat down, fac- ing each other. ,las spoke in French. "I have traveled far since leaving 'Lac Bain," he said. "I went first to Nelson House, and from there to the •Wholdaia. I found them at Nelsou Souse, but not on the Wholdaia." "What?" asked Jean, though he 'knew well what the other meant. "My brothers, Jean de Gravois," an- swered Jan, drawing his lips until bis e 'teeth gleamed in a sneering smile. "My brothers the cart'ionl I saw the two at Nelson Boast. One of.them is a +half wit, and the other"—he hunched ,his shoulders—"is worse. Petraud, • one of the two who were at Wholdaia, 7'was killed by a Cree father last winter •• for dishonoring his daughter. The oth- .er disappeared. So you see, Jean de Gravols, what sort of creature is your 'friend Jan Thoreau!" ' "I see that you are a bigger fool than ever," Jean said quietly. "Jan Thoreau, what If I should break my oath—and tell Melisse?" Unflinching the men's eyes met A''' • dull glare came into Jan's. Slowly be •unsheathed bis long knife and placed it upon the snow between his feet, with the gleaming end of the blade pointing toward Gravois. With a low alk.cry Jean sprang to his feet. "Do you mean that, Jan Thoreau? She had twisted a sprig of red bak• Do yon mean to give the knife c neesh into her glossy braid. and a clus• cage to one who has stakedhis life life ter of it nestled at her throat, but Jan for you and who loves you as a gave no sign that he had noticed this brother?"_ little favor, which was meant entirely "Yes," said Jan deliberately. "1 for him, love you, ,lean. more than any other "Has MacVeigh put in his new trap man In the world. And yet L will kill line?" Cummins inquired after asking you if you betray me to Mellsstretcel"hed his Jan many questions about his trip. rose to bis feet and stretched out his "I don't know," replied Jan. "I didn't "Jean, to the little Frenchman. wouldn't you do as I am doing? Wouldn't you have done as much for Iowaka?" For a moment Gravols was silent. ' "I would not have taken her love without telling her," he said then. "That is not what you and I know as honor, Jan Thoreau, But 1 would have gone to her, as yon should now go to Melisse, and she would have opened her arms to me. as Melisse Would open hers to you. That is what .I would have done." "And that is what I shall never do," •said Jan decisively, turning toward the post "I could kill myself more easily. That is what I wanted to tell you, Jean. No one but you and 1 must ever know!" "I wonlcl like to choke the( fool et' a Croisset fur sending you to hunt ap those people at Nelson (louse etas Wholdaia!" grumbled ,lean. "It was best for me." They sn w Melisse Ien'a•ine !.,,..' : ••V 'lamas when they CLOW fr0111 the t&i•tl't. "menaser tie sura' at IAA speaking to her with his eyes fixed on the cap he was twisting in his fingers, "there ham come a great change over Jgn." "A very great change, Jean. If I were to guess I should say that his heart had been broken down on the Nelson trail." Gravols caught the sharp meaning in her voice, which trembled a little as she spoke. 1,3e was. before her in an instant, his cap fallen to the floor, his eyes blazing as be caught her by the arms. "Yes, the heart of Jan Thoreau is broken!" he cried. "But it has been broken by nothing that lives on. the Nelson House trail. it is broken be• cause of—you!" "I?" Melisse drew back from him with a breathless cry. "1—I have bro. ken"— "I did not say that," interrupted Jean. "I say that 1t is broken because of you. If only 1 might tell you!" "Do—do, Jean! Please tell me!" She put her stands on his shoulders. Her eyes implored him. "Tell me what I have done—what can I do, Jean?" "I can say that much to you, and no more," he said quietly. "Only know this, my dear—that there is a great grief eating at the soul of Jan Thoreau, and that because of this grief he is changed. I know what that grief is, but I am pledged never to reveal it. It is for you to find out, and to do this, above all else—let him know that you love him. Not as a sister any longer, Melisse, but as a woman!" Gravois did not stay to see the affect of his last words. Cummins and Jan -Hume in together at supper time. The factor was in high humor. An Indian from the itorcupine had brought In two silver foxes that morning, and he was immensely pleased at Jan's return, a combination of incidents which put him in the best of moods. Melisse sat opposite Jan at the table. Both waved their hands to her, and Jan cut across the open to the store. .lean went to the Cummins cabin ae soon as be was sure that he was not observed. There was little of the old vivacity in his manner as he greeted Melisse. He noised, too, that the girl was not her natural self. 'There was a redness under her eyes which told bird that s -lie Jiad been Crying, PALPITATION OF THE 6.2 EART, go to MacVeigh's." Purposely he held his eyes from Me- ed at her sharply over his shoulder as lisse. She understood his effort, and a he hung up his coat and hat. quick flush gathered in her cheeks. "Has anything come between you "It was MacVeigh who brought in and Jan?" he asked suddenly. "Why word of you." have you been crying?" "I met hien in the Cree lake country, "Sometimes the tears come when I but he said nothing of his trap hues.' He rose from the table with Cum• mins and started ,to follow him from the cabin. Melisse came between. For haven't bud it up itgain, Jan." She caught a glimpse of his lathered face in the glass staring at her with big, seeking eyes. She bad washed 1110 dishes before he finished shaving. Then she took down the old violin from the wall and began to play, her law, sweet voice accompanying the in- strument In a Cree melody which Io' wake had taught her. surprised. he faced her, his eyes glowing as there fell from her lips the When the Back Becomes lame IT IS A SIOM OF KIDNEY TROUBLE Doan's Kidney Pills cure the aching back by curing the aching kidneys be- neath—for it is really the kidneys aching and not the back. Doan's Kidney Pills are a special. kidney and bladder medicine for the cure of all kidney troubles, Mrs, J,ouisa Conshaw, 683 Manning Ave., Toronto, Ont„ writes: "I take great pleasure in writing you, stating the benefit I have received by using Doan's Kidney Pills. About three years ago I was terribly afflicted with lame back, and was so bad I could not even sweep the floor. I was advised to try your pills, andtefore I had used one box there was a great improvement, and my back was much better. However, I kept on taking them until my back was completely cured. I highly recommend 'Doan's' for lame back," Doan's Kidney Pills are the original pill for the kidneys. See that our trade mark the "Maple Leaf" appears on the wrapper. Doan's Kidney Pills are 50c per box, 3 boxes for $1.25; at all dealers or mailed direct on receipt of price by The T. Milburn Co„ Limited, Toronto, Ont. When ordering direct specify "Doan's." gentle love song of a heartbroken In- dian maiden, filled with its infinite sad- ness and despair. He stood silent un- til she had finished, staring down upon her bowed head. When she lifted her eyes to trim, he saw that her long lash- es were wet and glistening in the lamp glow. She played again, her voice humming with exquisite sweetness the wordless music which he had taught her. At last she gave him the violin. "Now you must play for me." "I have forgotten a great deal, Me- lisse." She was astonished to see how clum- sily his brown fingers traveled over the strings. As she watched him her heart thrilled uneasily. It was not the old Jan who was playing for her now, but a new Jan, whose eyes shone dull and passionless, in whom there was no stir of the old spirit of the violin. He wan- dered listlessly from one thing to an- other, and after a few minutes gave her the instrument again. Without speaking, she rose from her c•liair and hung the violin upon the wall. "You must practice a great deal," she said quietly. At her movement, he, too, rose from" his seat, and when she turned to him again he had his cap in his hand. A flash of surprise shot into her eyes. "I say, M. Jan Thoreau!" he fairly hissed. Jun looked up, smiling, to see the little Frenchman fairly quivering with rage. "Good morning. M. Jean de Ura - rots!" he laughed back. "You see 1 ant going out among the foxes. I am tired of the post. 1 can snake better wage for my time In the swamps to the west." Jean's thin lips were almost snarling. "Blessed saints, and It was i who"— IIe spun upon his heels without an- other word and went straight to Me- lisse. "Jan Thoreau Is going to leave the post," he announced fiercely, throwing out his chest and blariug at ber ac- cusingly, "So father has told me," said Me- lisse. Her cheeks were colorless and there were purplish lines ander her eyes, but she spoke with exceeding calm- ness. "Well." exclaimed Jean, whirling again, "you take it coolly!" A,little later Melisse saw Jan com- ing from the store. When he entered the cabin his dark face betrayed the strain under which he was laboring, but his voice was unnaturally calm. "1 have come to say goodby, Me- lisse." he said. "1 am going to pros. "Are you going so soon, Jan?" "1 am tired," he said in excuse. "It pect fora good trap line among the has been two days since I have slept, I hope Barrens." Melisse. Good night!" "I hopyou will have good luck, He smiled at her from the door, but 'Ian." the "Good night" which fell from her In her voice, too, was a firmness al- lies was lifeless and unmeaning. Jan most metallic. shivered when he went out. Under the • Will you wait a moment?" she cold stars be clinched his hands, know- asked. lug that be had cause from the cabin She hurried into her room, and none too soon, scarcely had she gone before she re- nt was late when Cummins returned appeared again, this time with a Hush home. Melisse was still up. He look- burning in her cheeks and her eyes shining brightly. She had unbraided her hair, and it lay coiled upon the crown of her head, glistening with crimson sprigs of bakneesb. She came to him a second time and once more gave him her hand. Sadden fright or emotion may cause a •inotneutary arrest of the heart's action, or some excitement or apprehension may :set up a rapid action of the heart thereby �ausiug palpitation. Palpitation, again, is often the meta 'of digestive di'sordcrs arising front the stontac1i, or may be the result of over indulgence of tobacco or alcoholic drinks. The only way to regulate this serious heart trouble is to use Aiilburn's Heart and Nerve ?ilia. Mrs. J. S. Nicholls, Listowel!, Ont.; writes: "I was weak and rain down, my •heart would palpitate and I would take Weals and dizzy stalls. A friend ad. vied hie to try biiibern's Heart and Nervy Pills, co I started at once to u°e theist, and feund that I felt inuch Si'tronerI caninot your medicine too highly, for it has ttuac me a world or goatI." Milburn's Heart and Nerve fills are 50c per t1 r 1 . .dealers, t ' Milburn. Co, I,:=•tiSed, 'To onto, It. am playing the violin, father. I know of nothing that has come between Jan and me, only I-1 don't understand"— She stopped, struggling bard to keep a moment her hand rested upon his hack the sobs that were trembling in her throat. "Neither do I understand," exclaim- ed the factor, going to the stove to light his pipe. "He gave me his res- ignation as a paid servant of the com- pany tonight!" "He is not going—to leave—the post?" "Ere is leaving the service," reiterat- ed her father. "That means be can not long live at Lac Bain. He says he is going into the woods, perhaps into Jean's country of the Athabasca. Has he'told you more?" "Nothing," said Melisse. The next day it was Crolsset who went along the edge of the Barrens arm. "You are going to stay with nae, Jan," she smiled. "I want your help with the dishes, and then we're going to play on the violin." She pulled him into a chair as Cum- mins left and tied an apron about his shoulders. "Close your eyes and don't move," she commanded, laughing into his sur- prised face as she ran into her room. A segment later she 'returned with one hand held behind her back. There came the snip of scissors and a little nervous laugh close to his head. "It's terribly long, Jan!" Her soft hand brushed his bearded cheek, "Ugh!" she shuddered. "You must take that off your face. - If you don't"— "Why?" he asked through lack of anything else to say. She lowered her head until her cheek pressed against 1315 own. "Because it feels like bristles," she whispered. She reddened fiercely when he re- mained silent, and the scissors snipped more rapidly between her fingers. "I'm going to prospect the big swamp along the edge of the Barrens this summer," he explained soon, laughing to relieve the tension. "A beard will protect me from the black flies." "You can grow another." She took the apron from about his shoulders and held it so that he could see the result of tier work. He looked up, smiling. "Thank you, Melisse." She went to the cupboard behind the stove and brought out her father's shaving tang and razor. "I insist that you shall use then!," she said, stirring the soap into a lath- er and noting the indecision In his face, "I am afraid of you." "Afraid of me?" He stood for a moment In front ot the little mirror, turning his face from side to side. Melisse banded him the razor and cup. "Yon don't seem like the Jan that I used to know once upon a time. There has been a great change in you since— since"— She hesitated. "Sinee when, Melisse?" "Since the day we came In from the mountain and l put np my Hair." 1 With time' cethess she added, "1 "Goodby, Jan!" for meat. Gravols found Jan filling a new shoulder pack with supplies. It was their drat encounter since he had learned that Jan had given up the CHAPTER XII. Jan Returns. AL that spring and summer ,Jiro Lo spent in the thick caribou swamps and low ridge moue - tains along the Barrens. It was two months before be appeared at the post again, and then be remained only long enough to patch himself up and secure fresh supplies. Melisse had suffered quietly during these two months, a grief and loneli- ness filling her heart which none knew but herself. Even from Iowaka she kept her unhappiness a secret, and yet when the gloom had settled heavi- est upon her she was still buoyed up by a persistent hope. Until Jan's Last visit to Lac Bain this hope never quite went out. The first evening after his arrival from the swamps to the west he came to the cabin. His beard had grown again. His hair was long and shaggy and fell in shining dishevelment upon his shoulders. The sensitive beauty of his great eyes, once responsive to ev- ery passing humor in Melisse, flashing fun at her laughter, glowing softly in their devotion, was gone. This time Melisse knew that there was left not even the last comforting spark of hope within her bosom. Jan had gone out of her life forever, leav- ing to her as a haunting ghost of what they two had once been to each other the old violin on the cabin wall. After be went away again the violin became more and more to her what it had once been to him. She played it as he had played it, sobbing her loneli- ness and her heart break through its strings, in lone hours clasping it to her breast and speaking to it as Jan had talked to it in years gone by. Once during the autumn Jan came in for supplies and traps and his dogs and sledge. He was planning to spend the winter 200 miles to the west, in the country of the Athabasca. Tie was at Lac Bain for a week, and during this time a mail runner came in from Fort Churchill. The runner brought a new experience into the life of Melisse—her first letter. It was from young Dixon—twenty or more closely written pages of it, In which he informed her that he was going to spend a part of the approach- ing winter at Lac Bain. She was reading the last page when Jan came into the cabin. Eler cheeks were slightly flushed by this new ex, citement, which wasreflected in her eyes as she looked at Jan. "A letter!" she cried, holding out her two hands filled with the pages. "A letter to me, Jan, all the way from Fort Churchill!" "Who in the world"— he began, smiling at her, and stopped. "It's from Mr. Dixon," she said, the flush deepening in her cheeks. "He's going to spend part of the winter With us." "I'm glad of that, Melisse," said Jan quietly. "I like him and would like to know him better." He did not see her again until six months later, when he came in to the caribou roast with his furs. Then he learned that another letter had come to Melisse and that Dixon had gone to London instead of coming to Lac Bain. The day after the carnival he went back into the country of the Athabas- ca. Spring did not see him at Lac Bain. Early summer brought no news "1 don't suppose you care now," she of him. In the floods Jean went by said coldly, and yet laughing in his the waterway to the Athabasca and face. "I have not broken my promise. found Thoreau's cabin abandoned. it was silly, wasn't it?" There had not been life in it for a He felt as if his blood had,beea sud- denly chilled to water, and he fought to choke back the thick throbbing in his throat. "You promised"— He could not go further. "I promised that I would not do up my hair again until y,ou had forgotten to love me," she finished for him. "I will do it up now." "I have not forgotten to love you, Melisse. I shall never cease to love my little sister. But you are elder now, and it is time for you to do up your hair." He turned without looking at her long time. The Indians said that since the melting snows they had not seen Jan. A bnlfbreed whom Jean met at Fond du Lac said that he had found the bones of a white man on the Beaver with a Hudson's bay gun and a bora handled knife beside them. Jean came back to Lac Bain heavy at heart. "There is no doubt that he is dead," he told Iowaka. "I do not believe that it will hurt very much if you tell Me. lisse." One day early in September a lone figure came into the pest at noon when the company people were at din• again, leaving her standing with her ner. He carried a neck, and six dogs arms still hart stretched out to him, and went from the cabin. trailed at his heels. It was Jou Tho• "Goodby, Tan!" reau. The words fell in a sobbing whisper frim her, but he had gone too far to hear. The Wretchedness of Constipation Can quickly be overcome by CARTER'S LITTLE LIVER PILLS Purely vegetable act surely aid I;e sly on the liver. Cue Biliousness, 1 Head - rich , Elul- 4= nese, and h digestion. They do their duty. Smell Pill, Small Dose, Small Price. Geaauine mast bear Signature IRRAPIONNIMPIMIIIMPAMPIRRIPIPJ "I have been down to civilization," was his explanation. "I have return- ed to spend this winter at Lac Bain." On the first scow came young Dixon from Fort Churchill. Jean de Gravois met him on the trail near Ledoq's. "Bless me, if it isn't my old friend Jean!" he cried.' "I was just thinking of you, Gravois, and how you trim• med me to a finish two winters ago. I've learned a lot about you people up here in the snows since then, and I'll never do anything like that again. How is Mrs. Gravois and the little Gravois—and Melisse?" he added be. fore Jean had spoken. "All well, M'seur Dixon," replied Jean. "Only the little Gravois have almost grown into a man stud woman." An hour or so later he said to Io- waka: "I can't help liking this man Dixon, and yet I don't want to. Why is it, do you suppose?" "Is it because you are afraid that Melisse will like him?" asked his wife, smiling over her shoulder. "Blessed saints, I believe that Is It!" said Jeau frankly. "I hate foreigners —and Melisse belongs to Tan." "A woman will not wait always," "You will not find him, • he said slow- thought he would find Lac Bain. said Iowaka softly. "Ian Thoreau has ly in French, "but if you are determin- Still he shouted for Dixon and fired waited too long!" ed to go I will hunt with you. It is a au occasional shot from bis ride. Br. .A. week. later as they stood together big chance that we will not come back." noon he should have struck the lake.: in front of their door they saw Dixon "I don't want you to go," objected Noon came and passed; the gloom of u and Melisse walking slowly in the edge .Jan, "One Will do ns muco as two un- n second night fell upon hint. Iie of the forest. The woman laughed less we search alone. I came your way ;built himself a fire and ate two-thirds< into .!eau's face. to And if it had begun to snow• before of what remained of the bacon. '.Ib& "Did I not' say that Jan ]rad waited Dixon left." handful of flour In his pocket he did too long?" "An hour after be hacl not disturb. Jean's face mita black with disappro- Children Cry for Fletcher's The Bind You Have Always Bought, and which has been in use for over 4O years, has borne the signature of and has been made under his per- ��.�. sonal supervision since its infancy. o one todeceiv a you �C7.a!GlGt/1/. Allow Tt . this. All Counterfeits, Imitations and °i Just -as -good" are but Experiments that trifle with and endanger thohealth ot Infants and Children—Experience against Experiment. What is CASTORIA Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare- goric, Drops and Soothing Syrnps. It is pleasant. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. Its age is its guarantee. It destroys Worms and allays Feverishness. For more than thirty years it has been in constant use for the relief of Constipation, Flatulency, Wind Colic, all Teething Troubles and Diarrhoea. It regulates the Stomach and Dowels, assimilates the JFood, giving healthy and natural Sleep. The Children's Panacea—The Mother's Friend. GENUINE CASTO R IA ALWAYS Bears the Signature of In Use For Over 30 Years The Kind You Have Always Bought THE CENTAUR COM pANY, NEW YORK CITY• ation. Deep down in his soul Jan knew that each day was bringing the end of it all much nearer for him. He did not tell Melisse that he had returned to Lac Bain to be near her once more, nor did he confide in Jean. Day after day he saw Melisse and the English- man together, and, while, they awak- ened fn him none of the fiery jealousy which might have rankled in the bos- om of Jean de Gravois, the knowledge that the girl was at last passing froth him forever added a deeper grief to that which was already eating at his heart. Dixon made no effort to conceal his feelings. He loved Melisse. Frankly he told this to Jean one day when they were on the Churchill trail. In his honest way he said things which broke down the last of Jean's hereditary prejudices. "I like him," he said to himself, "and yet I would rather see him in the blessed hereafter than have him take Melisse from Jan!" The big snow decided. It came early in December. Dixon bad set out. alone for Ledoq's early in the morn- ing. By moon the sky was a leaden black, and a little later one could not see a dozen paces ahead of him for the snow. The Englishman did not return that day. The next day he was still gone, and Gravois drove along the top of the mountain ridge until he came to the Frenchman's, where he found that Dixon had started for Lac Bain the preceding afternoon. lie brought word back to the post. Then he went to Melisse. "It Is as good as death to go out in search of him," he 'said. "We can no longer use the dogs. Snowshoes will sink like leaden bullets by morning, and to go ten miles from the post means that there will be bones to be picked by the foxes when the crust comes!" It was dark when Jan came into the cabin. Melisse started to her feet with a little cry when he entered, covered white with the snow. A light pack was strapped to his back, and he car- ried his rifle in bis hand. "I am going to bunt for him," be said softly. "If he is alive I will bring him back to you." She catne to him slowly, and the beating of Tan's heart sounded to him like the distant thrumming of par- tridge wings. Ah, would he ever for- get that look? The old glory was in her eyes, her arms were reaching out, her lips parted. He saw her face so near to him that he felt the touch of her sweet breath, and he knew that one of his rough hands was clasped in froth of her own and that after a trio - meat it was crashed tightly against her boson. "Jan, toy hero"— Ile struggled back, almost sobbing, 110 be plunged out into the night again. He heard her voice crying after him, but the wild wailing of the spruce and the storm in his brain drowned her words. IIe had seen the glorious light of love in her eyes—her love for Dixon! And he would find him! He went to Ledoq's now, following tate top of the mountain, and reached his cabin in the late dawn, The French. man stared at biro in amazement when he learned that be was about to set out on a search for Dixon. • not see your hand tiefln•e- ,your face" replied Leduq, preparing his pack. "There is no dun ht hut that he circled out over Lae stain. We will go that far together and then search alone." They went back over the inquntain and stopped when instinct told them that they were opposite the spruce for- ests .: of the mice. There they separated, scrag -Jan gothas nearly no he could gues$ into the northwest. Ledoq trailing slow- ly and hopelessly into the sctith• It was no great sacrifice for Jan. this! struggle with the big snows for the happiness of Melisse. What it was to Ledoq no man ever guessed or knew% la for it was not until the hue spring snows had gone that the people at Lae Bain found what the foxes and the wolves had left of him far to the south. Fearlessly .Ian plunged into the white world of the lake. There was neithel rock nor tree to guide him, for every' where was the heavy ghost raiment of the Indian god. Day came, only a lit: tle lighter than the night. Ile crossed the lake, his snowshoes sinking ankle deep at every step, and once each halt hour he fired a single shot from his rifle. He heard shots to the south and knew that it was Ledoq, each report coming to him more faintly than the last until they had died away entirely. Across the lake he struck the forest again, and his shouts echoed in futile inquiry in its weird depths. At noon ,Tan stopped and ate his lunch; then ha went on, carrying Ills rifle always upon! his right shoulder, so that the steps of his right leg would be shortened and he would travel in a circle, as he believed Dixon had clone. The storm thickened with the falling of night, and he burrowed himself a great hole in the soft snow and filledfl11e it with balsam houghs for a bed.! When he awakened, hours later, he stood up and thrust out his head and found himself buried to the armpits. With the aid of his broad snowshoes he drew himself out until he stood knee deep in the surface. He lifted his peek. As he swung it before hire, one arta thrust through a strap,. he gave a startled cry. Half of one side of the pack was eaten away! A. thin trickle of flour ran through his lingers upon the snow, Ile pulled out a gnawed pound of bacon, a little tea and that was all. Frautically he ripped the rent wider in his search, and when he stood up his wild face staring into .the chaos about hint, he held only the bit of bacon in his hand. In it were the imprints of tiny teeth—sharp little razor edged teeth that told him what had happen- ed. While he had slept a mink had robbed hitn of his food! With one of his shoes he began dig- ging furiously in the snow. Iie tore his balsam bed to pieces. Somewhere --somewhere not very far away—the little animal must have cached its theft, Ile dug down until he carne to the frozen earth. For ;ushour he worked and found nothing: Then he stopped. Over a small fire sic melted snow for tea anti broiled a slice of the bacon, which he ate with. the few biscuit crumbs he found in the pack. Every particle of flour that he could find he scrape:! up with hie knife and put into one o the deep pockets of his caribou coat. After that he set out its the direction in which he batten. He was angered at the COI. (P0 Bi CON1INUED.) Itssa.3£1]th which Jan accepted the sit*