Going to the stage, he took down his five-foot snowshoes, slipped 

 his moccasined feet into the thongs, and with his gun resting in the 

 hollow of his bemittened hand, and the sled's hauling-line over his 



shoulder, strode off through the mulled aisles between the holes oj 

 evergreens: while through a liny slit in the wall of his moose-skin 

 home two loving eyes watched his stalwart figure vanishing among 

 tfie . . . See Chapter IV 



