Willis had slipped out a few minutes before and had wandered up the canyon to the last point from which the cabin could be seen. There he stopped and turned to survey the valley. The air was clear and cool and was completely filled with the fragrant murmuring of the pines. Far down in a vista of shifting lights and shadows stood the cabin. The next week brought the first signs of the approaching winter. The warm fall rains gave way to cold showers. The leaves fell in countless millions, and the voices of the feathered folk seemed to have blown away with the autumn leaves. Heavy white mists hung over the mountains, lifting occasionally to show curious eyes that the lofty summits were already being painted white. The grass lost its fresh, green color, and the wild purple asters dropped their lovely heads and slept. The first real snow came in the night. The desire to go to the cabin on the part of a large number of healthy, stalwart boys was matched against a foot of fluffy snow. The fact that they had not seen the new, completed bunk-house, nor the fireplace, added greatly to their intense desire to go. Added to this was the natural boyish love for possible adventure, so, of course, it was decided to go, snow or no snow. Twenty strong, they were on hand at the appointed hour. Soft shirts had given way to sweaters, outing shoes to high boots or leggings. Still the boys were just the same--happy, healthy, and free, ready for anything the trip might bring. Old Peanuts raised sad eyes as he was led forth and saddled. To think that such as he should tramp through all that snow on such a night. Tuberculosis was disgusted beyond all measure. It was only by much bribing from his bag of precious pinion nuts that Sleepy was able to get him to even move. The snow was dry and fluffy, so walking was not really disagreeable, but necessarily very slow. Somehow Peanuts seemed to have grown old with the season, and many times Ham almost gave up in desperation, declaring they would not reach the cabin by morning. Darkness settled very early that night, and with it came the clear, cold breeze from the snowy peaks beyond. How white everything looked, and how quiet! Even the stream seemed to have been buried under a white blanket. On the hogsback the snow had drifted badly, completely obliterating the trail. It seemed like it took hours to climb that rugged hill. Twice the donkeys slipped from the trail, floundered in the fluffy drifts, and then lay down. Twice they both refused to go another step; then darkness--the black darkness of a stormy winter night, settled about them just as they entered the Park. Who knew the trail--that narrow pathway that led between trees, around buried stumps, across shallow fords, and back again? Who could now general this little disheartened army and lead it on to warmth and shelter? Sleepy complained bitterly because the trail was long, and many times threatened to go back when he was taunted with