Another day passed and at night, after a hard march, they camped five
miles from Manitou Mountain. And not a sign! But Hume felt there was a
faint chance of Lepage being found at this mountain. His iron frame had
borne the hardships of this journey well; his strong heart better. But
this night an unaccountable weakness possessed him. Mind and body were on
the verge of helplessness. Bouche seemed to understand this, and when he
was unhitched from the team of dogs, now dwindled to seven, he leaped
upon his master's breast. It was as if some instinct of sympathy, of
prescience, was passing between the man and the dog. Hume bent his head
down to Bouche for an instant and rubbed his side kindly; then he said,
with a tired accent: "It's all right, old dog, it's all right."

Hume did not sleep well at first, but at length oblivion came. He waked
to feel Bouche tugging at his blankets. It was noon. Late Carscallen and
Cloud-in-the-Sky were still sleeping--inanimate bundles among the dogs.
In an hour they were on their way again, and towards sunset they had
reached the foot of Manitou Mountain. Abruptly from the plain rose this
mighty mound, blue and white upon a black base. A few straggling pines
grew near its foot, defying latitude, as the mountain itself defied the
calculations of geographers and geologists. A halt was called. Late
Carscallen and Cloud-in-the-Sky looked at the chief. His eyes were
scanning the mountain closely. Suddenly he motioned. A hundred feet up
there was a great round hole in the solid rock, and from this hole there
came a feeble cloud of smoke! The other two saw also. Cloud-in-the-Sky
gave a wild whoop, and from the mountain there came, a moment after, a
faint replica of the sound. It was not an echo, for there appeared at the
mouth of the cave an Indian, who made feeble signs for them to come. In a
little while they were at the cave. As Jaspar Hume entered,
Cloud-in-the-Sky and the stalwart but emaciated Indian who had beckoned