“The line that shut us in in the autumn has thinned out and gone!” exclaimed Robert in sanguine tones, “and we’ll have a clear path from here to the lake!”

Then they rolled stones, as they had planned, before the door to their home, closing it wholly except a few square inches at the top, and ascended on their snowshoes to the crest of the ridge.

“Our cave will not be disturbed, at least not this winter,” said Tayoga confidently.  “The bears that sleep below are, as I told you, the silent sentinels, and they will guard it for us until we come again.”

“At least, they brought us good luck,” said Robert.  Then, with long, gliding strokes they passed over the ridge, and their happy valley was lost to sight.  They did not speak again for hours, Tayoga leading the way, and each bending somewhat to his task, which was by no means a light one, owing to the weight they carried, and the extremely mountainous nature of the country.  The wilderness was still and intensely cold.  The deep snow was covered by a crust of ice, and, despite vigorous exertion and warm clothing, they were none too warm.

By noon Robert’s ankle, not thoroughly hardened to the snowshoes, began to chafe, and they stopped to rest in a dense grove, where the searching north wind was turned aside from them.  They were traveling by the sun for the south end of Lake George, but as they were in the vast plexus of mountains, where their speed could not be great, even under the best of conditions, they calculated that they would be many days and nights on the way.

They stayed fully an hour in the shelter of the trees, and an hour later came to a frozen lake over which the traveling was easy, but after they had passed it they entered a land of close thickets, in which their progress was extremely slow.  At night, the cold was very great, but, as they scooped out a deep hollow in the snow, though they attempted no fire, they were able to keep warm within their bearskins.  A second and a third day passed in like fashion, and their progress to the south was unimpeded, though slow.  They beheld no signs of human life save their own, but invariably in the night, and often in the day, they heard distant wolves howling.

On the fourth day the temperature rose rapidly and the surface of the snow softened, making their southward march much harder.  Their snowshoes clogged so much and the strain upon their ankles grew so great that they decided to go into camp long before sunset, and give themselves a thorough rest.  They also scraped away the snow and lighted a fire for the first time, no small task, as the snow was still very deep, and it required much hunting to find the fallen wood.  But when the cheerful blaze came they felt repaid for all their trouble.  They rejoiced in the glow for an hour or so, and then Tayoga decided that he would go on a short hunting trip along the course of a stream that they could see about a quarter of a mile below.