"How are you, boys?" asked Mr. Baxter.
"Still alive," replied Fred.
"Terribly cold and hungry," answered Jerry.
"Shall I give up?"
"No!" exclaimed both boys. They were not going to surrender yet.
The hours passed. Foot after foot the Indians searched. The captives, tortured by being obliged to sit in one position, suffering from cold and hunger, watched them. Callack seemed to become more and more enraged as the time went on and he did not find the gold. Yet he did not again appeal to Mr. Baxter.
The sun began to decline. Night was once more settling down. For over twenty-four hours they had had nothing to eat. They were faint and almost frozen, but they would not give in. As for Johnson, he realized little of what was going on around him.
It began to get dark. Once more the Northern Lights appeared in the sky, wavering and shooting from the horizon to the zenith. The Indians had ceased their digging and returned to their tents.
"How are you, Fred?" asked Mr. Baxter.
"I'm—I'm pretty well—I—I guess I can stand it a little longer."