White Guard, with their faces turned homeward, and the man they had
sought for in their care, seemed to have acquired new strength. Through
days of dreadful cold, through nights of appalling fierceness, through
storm upon the plains that made for them paralysing coverlets, they
marched. And if Lepage did not grow stronger, life at least was kept in
him.

There was little speech among them, but once in a while Gaspe Toujours
sang snatches of the songs of the voyageurs of the great rivers; and the
hearts of all were strong. Between Bouche and his master there was
occasional demonstration. On the twentieth day homeward, Hume said with
his hand on the dog's head "It had to be done, Bouche; even a dog could
see that."

And so it was "all right" for the White Guard. One day when the sun was
warmer than usual over Fort Providence, and just sixty-five days since
that cheer had gone up from apprehensive hearts for brave men going out
into the Barren Grounds, Sergeant Gosse, who, every day, and of late many
times a day, had swept the north-east with a field-glass, rushed into the
chief-factor's office, and with a broken voice cried: "They've all come!
They've come!" Then he leaned his arm and head against the wall and
sobbed. And the old factor rose from his chair tremblingly, and said his
thank-god, and went hurriedly into the square. He did not go steadily,
however, the joyous news had shaken him, sturdy old pioneer as he was. A
fringe of white had grown about his temples in the last two months. The
people of the fort had said they had never seen him so irascible, yet so
gentle; so uneasy, yet so reserved; so stern about the mouth, yet so kind
about the eyes as he had been since Hume had gone on this desperate
errand.