spruce-branches. Then he buried the fire in snow, slipped his moccasined feet into the moose-hide thongs of his snow-shoes, and blithely resumed his march.
By this time he had come out upon the high and comparatively level, though broken, plateau which crowned the Height of Land. There was now no more ascent to climb, and the snow had been packed harder by the winds, so he travelled more swiftly. But two or three times in the course of the afternoon he felt a momentary hesitation as to his path. Such scanty landmarks as had been familiar to him in the autumn were now hardly recognizable under their deep mufflings of snow. The sky had thickened till the sun was no more visible as a guide, and the soft, pearly, diffused light made all things look alike to him. But he felt so sure of his general direction, so confident in his woods-instinct, that it never occurred to him to verify his course.
And then, when the pearly light was just beginning to take on a greyer, more forbidding tinge, when he was just beginning to expect the levels to fall away before him and open up a view of the wide Valley of Burnt Brook, he got a shock which brought him up in the middle of his eager stride. He ran upon a solitary snow-shoe track!
It was his own! He knew, beyond a question,
