The Boy and the Lynx 
head of each bunk. About one o’clock, with 
fearful regularity, the chills would come on, 
with trembling from head to foot and chattering 
teeth, and cold, cold, within and without. No- 
thing seemed to give any warmth—fire seemed 
to have lost its power. ‘There was nothing to 
do but to lie and shake and suffer all the 
slow torture of freezing to death and shak- 
ing to pieces. For six hours it would keep up, 
and to the torture, nausea lent its horrid aid 
throughout; then about seven or eight o’clock 
in the evening a change would come; a burn- 
ing fever set in; no ice could have seemed 
cool to him then; water—water—was all he 
craved, and drank and drank until three or four 
in the morning, when the fever would abate, 
and a sleep of total exhaustion followed. 
“Tf you run out of food take the canoe to 
Ellerton’s,” was the brother’s last word. Who 
was to take the canoe ? 
There was but half a Chicken now between 
them and starvation, and no sign of Corney. 
For three interminable weeks the deadly 
program dragged along. It went on the same 
yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker—a few 
194 
