was happening he had wrapped one of the heavy bear skins about her
and had swept her into his arms. With her face crushed against his
breast he lowered his head and dashed back into the fiery
holocaust of the outer room. The cabin, with its pitch-filled
logs, was like a box made of tinder, and a score of men could not
have beat out the fire that was raging now. The wind beating from
the west had kept it from reaching the door opening into the
corral, but the pitch was hissing and smoking at the threshold as
Philip plunged through the blinding pall and fumbled for the
latch.

Not ten seconds too soon did he stagger with his burden out into
the night. As the wind drove in through the open door the flames
seemed to burst in a sudden explosion and the cabin was a seething
snarl of flame. It burst through the window and out of the chimney
and Philip's path to the open gate was illumined by a fiery glow.
Not until he had passed beyond the stockade to the edge of the
forest did he stop and look back. Over their heads the wind wailed
and moaned in the spruce tops, but even above that sound came the
roar of the fire. Against his breast Philip heard a sobbing cry,
and suddenly he held the girl closer, and crushed his face down
against hers, fighting to keep back the horror that was gripping
at his heart. Even as he felt her arms creeping up out of the
bearskin and clinging about his neck he felt upon him like a
weight of lead the hopelessness of a despair as black as the night
itself. The cabin was now a pillar of flame, and in it was
everything that had made life possible for them. Food, shelter,
clothing--all were gone. In this moment he did not think of
himself, but of the girl he held in his arms, and he strained her
closer and kissed her lips and her eyes and her tumbled hair there