"Let us put off our snow-shoes," said
Shegashie; " we must halt here."

"Why?"

"Because the snow will blind our eyes to
the path."

The path, however, was an Indian figure of
speech. We were travelling through an
untrodden wilderness, guided from point to
point by some rock, or bank, or quaintly
formed tree. But, these objects dwelt vividly
in the Indians' recollections. They had
travelled this road twice before; and, whatever
an Indian once sees, remains imprinted in his
memory for ever.

At Shegashie's announcement I looked
over the lake longingly. I could not bear to
lose an hour, far less a day; and I said that
perhaps we might get across before the
violence of the snow-storm came on. My
guides shook their heads. However, after a
time, they agreed to make the attempt.

Accordingly, off we started across the lake,
the snow flakes floating and playing lazily
around us; and, more than once, we
congratulated ourselves that their appearance had
not deterred us. But, when we had got about
half-way across, the snow-storm came dashing
down in our faces with a fierce gust that
almost threw us off our feet. Staggered and
breathless, we stopped. Near as the brothers
were, I could see no more than the outlines
of their dark forms through the thick curtain
of snow which fell between us; while nothing
was visible beyond, but dazzling snow-flakes
tumbling, whirling, and rushing down to
overwhelm us.

"We must," cried Shegashie, " keep the
wind in our faces, or we shall never reach the
shore."

He at once led the way, his brother and I
following, and with difficulty distinguishing
him as he shuffled heavily on before us.
Already the weight of snow upon our snow-
shoes impeded us greatly, and it increased
each moment, until we could scarcely drag
them along. The snow blew in our faces,
sharp as icicles, whirling past us in wild
eddies, almost beating us down. As the
storm increased, the wind, which had hitherto
blown steadily in our faces, began to waver,
and to dash the snow down upon us in every
direction. It was impossible to go on.

The last faint lingering shadow of a hope
passed away, and we felt there was nothing
left but to die. Once or twice I wondered
I did not feel the torpor, which is the
precursor of death among the snow, steal over
my senses; but we determined not to die
inactive, and the violence of my exertions
heated me to such a degree, that more than
once I found myself wiping the moisture
from my brow, as I fought the hopeless battle
against the whirlwind.

That I am alive to write this, is a proof of
the unslumbering Providence watching over
all; for there was no earthly hope for us,
when an unseen hand guided us to safety.
How we reached the shore none of us
ever knew; but, at length, still battling against
the blinding snow, Shegashie's snow-shoes
struck against a tree. Close beside it was a
thicket of dwarf firs, and we shrank into its
shelter—saved for the time.

For hours, the snow continued to fall, as if
inexhaustible; at length, however, it ceased,
and the setting sun shone out in the western
sky, red and angrily. The Indians said that
another snowstorm was at hand. So we set
about making the best preparations we could
for the night. Our friendly thicket was no
bad shelter, and Chingoos and I set to work
with our tomahawks to cut away the
branches, until the place somewhat resembled
a bower; then, shaking the cut branches
free from snow, we laid them up in soft piles
to sleep upon. Meantime Shegashie busied
himself in making a fire and collecting fuel.
We were short of food; for, during the last
day or two, game had been unusually scarce.
But we had sufficient for the night, and
hoped to obtain more on the morrow;
Shegashie having set several snares round our
camp for the small Arctic hares which abound
in those forests.

Soon after dark the snow recommenced;
and, although we were unusually well
sheltered, I never felt cold so intense as I did that
night. I have rarely felt more rejoiced
than I did when I saw the early dawn steal
over the landscape, and was able to rise
from my freezing couch and waken my
companions, who rose looking as comfortless as
myself: especially Chingoos, who trembled as
if he had an ague fit. But a little hot coffee
revived him.

Shegashie went to inspect his snares; and,
to his great disappointment, he found that
they had not been disturbed; so there was
nothing for it but to start afresh without
breakfast. Just as we had tied on our snow-
shoes, a few flakes of snow, like tiny birds,
came floating between us and the clear blue
sky. They were true harbingers; and,
within a few minutes, the clouds began
to gather and the snow to darken the
atmosphere. Warned by the past day's experience,
we remained in our camp. Hour after hour
the snow poured down in driving masses;
but we were sheltered from its fury. We had
fire, and the snow settling on the roof and
sides of our bower made it warm; so we felt
that we had more cause to be thankful than
to complain, though we were compelled to
fast.

Before long, Chingoos's indisposition of
the morning returned; and, as day wore on, he
continued to get worse; until, by evening, it
was quite evident that he was in the first
stage of a fever. We did the best we
could for him, by giving him hot coffee and
such other trifling comforts as our slender
stock afforded.

The next morning broke bright and
beautiful; but it was at once evident that poor