hardy half-bred broncho. Next came Rory in a dog-sled
cariole, with his several pugnacious canine friends made
fast by moose-skin collars. They would have tried the
patience of Job. They fought with each other on the
slightest pretext from sheer love of fighting, and knew
not the rules of Queensberry. If one of them happened to
get down in one of their periodical little outbreaks,
the others promptly abandoned their more equal contests
to pile on to that unfortunate one.

The rancher and Dorothy came next in a comfortable sleigh,
with large buffalo robes all around them to keep out the
cold. Then came the two women servants in a light wagon-box
set on runners, and driven by Jacques. A Mounted Policeman
in a jumper formed the rear-guard at a distance of about
half-a-mile. The wagons were well stocked with all
necessaries for camping out.

It was a typical North-West morning, cold, bracing and
clear. The dry air stimulated one, and the winter sun
shone cheerfully down upon the great white land of virgin
snow.

There was a sense of utter solitude, of an immensity of
space. There was no sound save the soft, even swish of
the runners over the snow, and the regular muffled pounding
of the horses' hoofs.

Within the next hour so buoyant were Dorothy's spirits,
and so light-hearted and genuine her outlook on things