preferring the longer way beyond the valley. But some hardy souls, especially among the whites, made use of the dangerous trail, and laughed at the fears of others.
The day of Marion’s confession in the little cabin the Golden Horn never looked more beautiful or benign. It seemed to smile its benediction on all sides, especially upon the lovers as they stood before the cabin ready to depart for The Gap, whither they had decided to go. All, excepting the sergeant, were rested, dinner had been eaten, and the dogs harnessed, with Zell’s four added to the team. With Marion on the sled surrounded by blankets, small bags of food, and a few cooking utensils, the command “mush on” was given, the whip in North’s hand snapped like a pistol shot, and they were off. How the dogs did race over the snow. They seemed to be conscious of the burden they bore, and the need for haste. Notwithstanding the sense of security with the strong men following, Marion’s heart was heavy. She was ever thinking of Zell, and her unbounded animation the day they had pulled out from Big Chance. Where was the girl now? she wondered. Was she lying somewhere upon the snow, silent in death? Perhaps she had fallen among wolves, or worse still into the hands of Bill, the Slugger. The sergeant had told her about that other camping-place he had found by the side of the trail, which had not been there the evening she and Zell passed that way. It could not have been made by her father, she was certain, because his own little cabin was so near. No, some one must have been following them, and had made off with the half-breed girl.
North’s thoughts, too, were of a serious nature. He had many things to think about since his conversation with Marion in the cabin. What connection had
