shared the Major's hope of securing a supply at the trading station, his
face grew grave at thought of being stranded more than a thousand miles
from civilization at the beginning of winter, and with only a few days'
supply of provisions. What if this trading station was one of those myths
that float down from the North? Or, what if it had been abandoned?

Barney shook himself free from these thoughts, and seizing his mandolin,
went to join Bruce and Timmie on saxophone and rudely-devised Indian
kettledrums in a wild-woods symphony, while the children danced wild
steps the boys had never seen.

* * * * *

"Well, we're off!" Barney said this, as he buckled on his harness and
touched the starting lever. The wheels of the starting gear bumped over
the thin-crusted snow and jolted through Timmie's wheat stubble, then
the great bird began to rise.

Winter had set in. Now they glided over dark forests of spruce, and now
swept above great stretches of barren lands. The air was biting cold.
They were thankful enough for their face-protectors, their electric hand
and foot warmers, their fur-lined leather union-alls. But best of all was
the glorious freedom of it. Soaring on and on over untrodden
wildernesses, with no thought of dangers known and unknown, made them
feel like explorers of a new world. The engines worked in perfect
harmony. A gentle breeze from the south urged them on their way. The sun
soon set and a long night began, but what of that? The moon and snow
lighted the earth as if by day, and with a silvery glory. And now the
Northern Lights began to flicker, flash and shoot across the sky.