"No horse, no boy back there?" pointing to the road just traversed by
Mr. Devins.

"No. I have looked carefully, and if there had been a trace left by
the recent storm I should have detected it."

"Ugh! well, me come over the hill; nothing that way either; then they
here."

"Why do you think so?"

"Ah! me know wolves. When Allan come to this place they ahead;
horse turn; wolves caught 'em this side woods; we look there," and
Tayenathonto pointed to the very course taken by the horse and rider.

It so happened when Allan was thrown from the horse's back that his
rifle flew from his hand and struck, muzzle down, in a hollow stump,
where, imbedded in the snow, it stood like a sign to mark the scene
of the last struggle of the lost boy. The snow had whitened all its
hither side. When the Indian came abreast of it, he cried:

"Told you so! See! Allan's gun! And here rest of 'em," pointing to the
little heap over the ruins of the old cabin.

Kicking the snow hastily aside, the Indian examined the ground
carefully a moment and then said: "No, only horse; Allan further on."

The Indian, with head bent down, walked quickly forward, threw up
his arms, and disappeared. He had stepped over the clean edge of the
cellar and sunk exactly as Allan had. A few desperate plunges sufficed