"Sam no say. See bimeby."

After Jean had eaten a hurried breakfast, the few belongings were again
packed up, and once more they started forward. The morning was cold,
and the trees were swaying and creaking like great masts at sea beneath
a whipping wind. Jean shivered as she bravely and patiently followed
Sam through that trackless wild. All through the morning they toiled
onward, and the afternoon was waning when the rain swept down upon
them. It froze as it fell, and ere long the ground was covered with a
coating of ice. At times Jean slipped and would have fallen but for
Kitty, who caught her by the arm and helped her over the rough and
treacherous places. The clothing of the three wayfarers soon became
stiff with the frozen rain, and resembled ancient armor. But still
they pressed onward, and night was again shutting down when another and
a larger lake burst suddenly into view.

On the shore of this fine body of water were several Indian lodges,
completely deserted. To Jean they looked cold and forbidding, so very
glad was she when Sam led the way to a dense thicket of young fir and
spruce trees. Nestling in their midst was the cosiest lodge Jean had
ever beheld. In fact, it consisted of a couple of lean-tos, facing
each other, between which was an open space a few feet in width. This
latter served as the fire-place, the smoke ascending through the
opening above.

In a short time a bright fire was burning, and Jean comfortably
ensconced upon the blankets and furs. Not a drop of rain touched her,
for the roof of this abode was covered with long strips of birch bark.
This, so Kitty explained, would be their home until the streams froze