morning.

In the meantime, the thaw began. The snow softened and got honeycombed
by the drops from the trees. One sank to the knees in trampled slush
among the sawn-off stumps about the shaft-head. The ice rotted, and in
places where the current ran fast large floes broke off, and drove down
stream until they were stopped by the thick ice in the slacks. Above the
Shadow Rapids, however, there was, for a time, no break in the frozen
surface, and one evening Scott and Thirlwell sat listening to the growl
of the rising flood in the open channel it had made near the mine. The
sound swelled and sank, and at intervals they heard rain patter on the
roof.

"In a week or two the canoes will be out," Scott remarked. "There's a
big head of water coming down and I guess the jamb that's backing up the
stream won't stand till morning."

"Some of it's going now; that's an extra large floe," said Thirlwell as
a detonating crash rang across the woods. Then there was a roar that was
pierced by a high, strident note, and he knew the floe was tearing open
upon a rock.

The shrill scream died away, but the turmoil of the current swelled, and
knowing what would happen soon, they waited with strained attention and
let their pipes go out. The mine buildings stood back from the bank and
they ran no risk, but nobody can listen unmoved when the ice breaks up
on a river of the North.

Presently there was a deafening concussion like the shock when a giant
gun is fired. The shack trembled as if struck by a battering ram, and