“What do you make of that?” he said.

Seaforth glanced round sharply.  “It’s a trifle curious.  That hide’s thick, and yet the beast has evidently broken it, but it pulled up the peg.”

“Did you find the peg?” said Alton, and Okanagan swept his glance across the faces before him.  Seaforth’s expressed bewilderment, Alton’s was grim.

“I found one,” said Seaforth—­“Julius Caesar’s.”

“Yes,” said Alton dryly.  “There should have been another, and a horse that breaks his tether can’t pull out the peg.  Still, I don’t think he broke it.”

“But,” said Seaforth, “the thing is broken.”

Tom of Okanagan smiled in a curious fashion while Alton reached out and laid his finger on the hide.  “One can’t be sure of anything,” he said.  “Still, one could fancy that had felt the knife before it snapped.”

There was silence for almost a minute, and the shadows of the great firs seemed to close in upon the camp.  Then Alton rose up and stretched his limbs wearily.

“I am kind of tired,” he said.  “There’s a good deal to be done to-morrow.”

CHAPTER XVI

CAUSE FOR ANXIETY

There was no sign of the missing horse next day, and Alton’s face was grave when he returned to camp at noon.  Tom of Okanagan arrived an hour or two later, and shook his head when Seaforth glanced at him inquiringly.

“Rock again.  Right down to the river,” he said.

Alton nodded, but did not ask if his companion had effected a crossing.  “There was a good deal of water coming down?” he said.

“Oh, yes,” said Okanagan.  “It was cold.  Boulders all along on the other side.  Now if the beast got over he’ll be lighting out for home, and there are some of us better than others at picking up a trail.”

Seaforth understood him, and the implication pleased him though it was not openly expressed.  “Had you any especial reason when you asked me to go, Harry?” he asked.

Alton smiled dryly.  “I had, but I don’t know that it was a very good one.  You would sooner stay up here.  What do you think, Tom?”

“Of course!” said Seaforth, and Alton nodded silently, while Okanagan rose to his feet.

“Now you have asked me, Charley’s right,” he said.  “I’ll be moving south in ten minutes.”

He had set off in somewhat less, and the men he left behind stood still listening until the sound of his footsteps had sunk into the stillness.  Then Seaforth glanced at his comrade, and Alton laughed.

“It’s lonely, Charley,” he said.  “I don’t know that you were wise, but we’ll get a move on and cache some of these provisions.”

Seaforth was glad of something to do.  Three had started from Somasco, and already one had gone, while he felt a slight sense of depression as he glanced north towards the wilderness of rock and snow their path led into.  He did not, however, tell his comrade so, and they toiled for an hour before Alton, carefully smoothing off the soil that covered what they had hidden, strewed it with cedar-twigs.