"We must go and look for them," I said after a pause.
I went before him, but he stopped me.
"Where will you look for them?" he asked.
"I don't know; everywhere."
"We can't tell, in this dim light, where they have gone."
That was true, and the snow came up above our knees. Our two torches together could not penetrate the shadows.
"If they do not reply, it is because they are a long way off," he said. "We must not go on; the wolves might attack us also. We cannot defend ourselves."
It was dreadful to have to leave the poor dogs to their fate—our two friends; friends particularly to me. And the terrible part of it was that I knew that I was responsible. If I had not slept they would not have gone out.
My master had turned back to the hut. I followed, looking back at each step, stopping to listen. I heard nothing, and saw nothing but the snow.
When we reached the hut another surprise awaited us. The branches that I had thrown on the fire were aflame and lit up the darkest corners of the cabin, but Pretty-Heart was nowhere to be seen. His coverlets were there before the fire, but he was not in them. I called. Vitalis called, but he did not appear.
My master said that when he awoke the monkey was beside him, so it was while we were out that
