CHAPTER XIII

THE PROSPECTORS' RETURN


It was snowing, but there was no wind and the shack was warm when, on
the evening after his return, Thirlwell sat, smoking, by the stove. Now
and then a mass of snow rumbled down the iron roof near the spot where
the hot pipe went through, and the draughts had lost their former sting.
The air in the room felt different; it was not humid yet, but one no
longer noticed the harsh dryness that is caused by intense frost. The
long arctic winter was coming to an end.

By and by Scott, sitting opposite Thirlwell, said thoughtfully,
"Driscoll's outfit will have to hustle, if they mean to do much
prospecting and get back while the ice is good. I'll give them a month,
and if they're not out then, they'll have trouble."

Thirlwell made a sign of agreement. Rivers and lakes are numerous in the
North, and in winter one can travel smoothly on the ice. When the latter
rots and cracks, _voyageurs_ and prospectors wait until the melting snow
sweeps the grinding floes away and canoes can be launched. To push
through tangled bush and across soft muskegs costs heavy labor.

"They were taking up a big load and couldn't march fast," he said.

"I understand you don't know Stormont?"