fall hissing into the flames. Hearing of Webb's expedition, the two
neighbors who had recently joined them pushed on up the road, shouting
and blowing the conch-shell as often as they deemed it necessary. Their
signal also was to be two blasts should they meet with any success.
Leonard and the doctor were a _corps de reserve_. The wind soon ceased
altogether, and a stillness that was almost oppressive took the place of
the thunder of the gale. They threw themselves down to rest, and Leonard
observed with a groan how soon his form grew white. "Oh, doctor," he said
in a tone of anguish, "can it be that we shall never find Burt till the
snow melts?"

"Do not take so gloomy a view," was the reply. "Burt must have been able
to make a fire, and now that the wind has ceased we can attract his
attention."

Webb's gun was heard from time to time, the sounds growing steadily
fainter. At last, far away to the east, came two reports in quick
succession. The two men started up, and with the aid of lanterns followed
Webb's trail, Abram bringing up the rear with an axe and blankets.

Sometimes up to his waist in snow, sometimes springing from rock to rock
that the wind had swept almost bare, Webb had toiled on along the broken
ridge, his face scratched and bleeding from the shaggy, stunted trees
that it was too dark to avoid; but he thought not of such trifles, and
seemed endowed with a strength ten times his own. Every few moments he
would stop, listen, and peer about him on every side. Finally, after a
rather long upward climb, he knew he had reached a rock of some altitude.
He again fired his gun. The echoes soon died away, and there was no sound
except the low tinkle of the snowflakes through the bushes. He was just
about to push on, when, far down to the right and south of him, he