they could carry was not such as to give them strength and warmth, and they saw no game to shoot.
They were just getting ready to go into a cheerless camp for the night, when Tom, who was a little in advance, looked ahead.
"Ned, do I see something or is it only a vision?" he asked.
"What does it look like?" asked his chum.
"Like Eskimos on sleds."
"That's what it is," agreed Ned, after observation. "Maybe it's the Fogers, or some of the savage Indians."
They halted in alarm, and got out their guns. The little party of natives kept coming on toward them.
Suddenly Abe uttered a cry, but it was one of joy and not fear.
"Hurrah!" he yelled. "It's all right—they're friendly natives! They're of the same tribe that helped me an' my partner! It's all right, boys, we're rescued now!"
And so it proved. A few minutes later the gold-seekers were on the sleds of the friendly Eskimos, some of whom remembered Abe, and the weary and hungry adventures were being rushed toward the native village as fast as the
