"And now, I ought to go outside and see if I can discover any trace of my companions, who must be awfully cut up over my disappearance. But don't be uneasy, Mr. Balfour, I shan't go far, and whether I find them or not I shall certainly come back to stay just as long as you need me. I hope you will sleep while I am gone, and I wish you would promise not to leave your bed, or move more than is absolutely necessary, before my return."
When Cabot first stepped outside the shelter that had proved such a haven of safety to him, he was dazzled by the brilliancy of the day. After becoming somewhat accustomed to the glare of sunlight on new-fallen snow, he turned to see what sort of a house he had just left. To his surprise there was no house; the only suggestion of one being two windows and a door set in a wall of rock that was built at the base of a cliff.
"It is a cavern," thought Cabot, "and that is the reason the room is so easily kept warm. Mighty good thing to have in this country, especially when it is lined with furs."
The snow lay unbroken, and there was no sign of the trail he had made the night before. For a short distance, however, he could go in but one direction, for the only way out was through the narrow defile by which he had entered. At its mouth he found the wire over which he had fallen, and thereby given notice of his approach by causing the ringing of an electric bell.
"When he heard it he turned on the lights," said Cabot to himself. "It's a great scheme for scaring off Indians and attracting white men. I wonder if any other person ever found the place? What a marvellous thing my stumbling on it was, anyhow. Now, which way did I come?"
Gazing blankly at the surrounding chaos of snow-covered rocks, our lad could form no idea of the route by which he had been led to that place, through the storm and darkness of the preceding night, nor of how he might leave it.
"There is no use wandering aimlessly," he decided at length, "and I'll either have to gain a bird's-eye view of the country or get Mr. Balfour to make me a map. To think that I should have discovered him, and here of all places in the world. What a sensation it will make when I tell of it. Of course I shall do so, for I'll get out of this fix all right somehow. What a state of mind poor White must be in this morning. I know I should be in his place. He's all right, though, with Yim to pull him through, and they'll make Indian Harbour easy enough. Then I shall be reported lost, and after a while Mr. Hepburn will hear the news. Wonder what he thinks has become of me anyhow? I am following out instructions, and wintering in Labrador fast enough. Only I don't seem to have much time to investigate mining properties, and of course it's no use trying to find 'em buried under feet of snow. Perhaps Mr. Balfour has discovered some while roaming around the country as a man-wolf. How absurd to think of 'Voltage' Balfour as a man-wolf! Wonder why he did it? How I wish he could talk! Wonder why he can't?"
While thus cogitating, Cabot had also been climbing a nearby eminence that promised a view of the outlying country, but from it he could see nothing save other hills rising still higher and an unbroken waste of snow.
"It's no use," he sighed. "I don't believe I could find them, even if I had plenty of time. As it is, I don't dare stay away from Mr. Balfour any longer. I'm afraid he's a very sick man, with a slim chance of ever pulling through."
So Cabot, after an absence of several hours, turned back towards the snug shelter so providentially provided for him, and for which he was just then more grateful than he could express. He was thinking of the many wonders of the place when he reached its door; but, as he opened it and stepped inside the room, he was greeted by a greater surprise than he had yet encountered. Nothing was changed about the interior, and the wounded man lay as Cabot had left him, but with the appearance of the latter he exclaimed: