Presently the man stooped, as if to pick up something, and Thirlwell, stealing forward, sank down among the willows.  They rustled as he crept between their stems, but the fire was snapping furiously and after he had gone a few yards he thought he was near enough.  Rising nearly upright, he pushed the dry branches aside.  Since they broke his outline, it would be hard to see him by the unsteady light.

The flames tossed and wavered, throwing a fierce red glow about the camp.  Pine-trunks and snow-bank stood out sharply from the shadow, and faded again.  The light played on the men’s faces for a few moments and then left them blurred and dim.  Thirlwell waited until one threw on some branches and a blaze and cloud of sparks sprang up.  The glare touched the fellow’s face and Thirlwell thrilled with excitement as he saw it was Driscoll.

He did not know the others, but one had a rather pale color, as if he had come from the cities, and his fur-coat looked new and good.  The sledge carried an unusually heavy load, and among the provision bags he noted some iron drills and a small wooden box such as giant-powder is packed in.  It was a prospecting party and he had seen enough.

Creeping back into the scrub, he set off for camp.  When he got there Father Lucien was asleep, and when they resumed the march next morning Thirlwell told him nothing about the other party.  He thought the missionary had difficulties enough of his own without being involved in the trouble that seemed to follow all who had anything to do with Strange’s silver lode.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PROSPECTORS’ RETURN

It was snowing, but there was no wind and the shack was warm when, on the evening after his return, Thirlwell sat, smoking, by the stove.  Now and then a mass of snow rumbled down the iron roof near the spot where the hot pipe went through, and the draughts had lost their former sting.  The air in the room felt different; it was not humid yet, but one no longer noticed the harsh dryness that is caused by intense frost.  The long arctic winter was coming to an end.

By and by Scott, sitting opposite Thirlwell, said thoughtfully, “Driscoll’s outfit will have to hustle, if they mean to do much prospecting and get back while the ice is good.  I’ll give them a month, and if they’re not out then, they’ll have trouble.”

Thirlwell made a sign of agreement.  Rivers and lakes are numerous in the North, and in winter one can travel smoothly on the ice.  When the latter rots and cracks, voyageurs and prospectors wait until the melting snow sweeps the grinding floes away and canoes can be launched.  To push through tangled bush and across soft muskegs costs heavy labor.

“They were taking up a big load and couldn’t march fast,” he said.

“I understand you don’t know Stormont?”

“I know his character—­and unless he’s badly slandered that’s enough!  I haven’t met him, but I’m nearly sure it was a city man I saw in Driscoll’s camp.”