their hearts, until the house was as dreary within as the winter waste
and gloomy forest were without.

Meanwhile the brave youth was sound asleep, dreaming as peacefully as
though snugly resting with his brother in his warm bed at home. He
slumbered on unconscious of the raging storm without, and did not
awake until late the next forenoon. It took him several seconds
to realize where he was and how he came there, but gradually he
remembered his ride for life, the falling of his horse, his struggle
in the snow, and his breaking into the protected space where he lay.

The storm lasted all day and far into the succeeding night. Allan ate
slightly, quenched his thirst with a few drops of water obtained by
melting snow in the palm of his hand, and began casting about for
means to get out. He soon found that to dig his way up through the
mass of snow that filled the cellar was beyond his powers. If he could
have made a succession of footholds, the task would have been easy;
but all his efforts only tended to fill his retreat, without bringing
him nearer the air. As soon as he saw this, he gave himself up to
calmly waiting for help from without.

The second morning of his imprisonment broke clear and cheerful, and
Mr. Devins set out to search for traces of his boy. He visited the
Inmans' and learned the particulars of Allan's stay and departure,
then mournfully turned his face homeward, his heart filled with
despair. When he emerged from the forest into the clearing, he met the
Indian who had visited him a few days before, and he told the red man
of Allan's loss. The Indian stood a moment in deep thought, and then
asked: