"Look here, Kanuka," he said, as the cavalcade resumed their march, "you bring me to a house where we can be decently comfortable for to-night, and I'll hand you ten yen, in addition to your regular pay. See?"
The man shrugged his shoulders under his shaggy sheepskin cloak and pointed up to the sky.
"Snow soon," he said gruffly. "House that way"; and again he indicated the north.
"Well, we may have to come to it, but I don't want to go a foot off the main trail if I can help it. There are too many loose characters floating about these regions to make the country healthy for foreigners, away from the military roads—eh, Kanuka?"
A gleam came into the guide's dark eye, but passed like a flash. He only shrugged his shoulders again, and resumed the weary tramp along the frozen path.
Now a snow-flake floated downward and alighted on Fred's coat-sleeve. He surveyed it with interest.
"Kanuka," he observed, "you're a genius. You'd be a valuable aid to General Greely, over in my country, forecasting weather. The snow has arrived—a 'local area' of it, anyway. How long do you suppose it will last?"
"Two days."
"Whew! It's a poor lookout for equestrian excursions to the rural districts! Here it comes, in dead earnest!"