"What are we to do now, Harry?" he cried in a tone of deep concern. "I can’t make out our way at all." By this time Harry’s spirits, which had hitherto been keeping up bravely, were beginning to fall, for he was growing weary of the long struggle with the storm. "I’m sure I don’t know," he responded ruefully. "I suppose there is nothing else to do but to push ahead and take our chances of hitting the shore somewhere." "That’s about all, Harry," was the superintendent’s reply. "Just rest a minute to get your breath, and then we’ll make a dash for it." For a little space they stood still and silent, the mind of each absorbed in anxious thought, and then Mr. Maynard called out,— "Come along now, Harry. Keep right in my tracks, and I’ll see if I can’t make the shore all right." For half-an-hour they toiled steadily onward, and well it was for both that they had such skill in the use of snow-shoes. Without them they could not have made a hundred yards’ headway, so heavy was the snow. Even as it was, the hard work told upon Harry, and presently he had to call to his companion,— "Hold on a minute, Mr. Maynard; I’m out of breath." The superintendent stopped short and came back to him. "Not played out already, are you, Harry?" he asked, peering anxiously into his face. "Oh, no!" and the boy made a gallant effort at a reassuring smile. "I just want to get my wind; that’s all. This abominable storm nearly suffocates me." As they rested again for a few minutes, the wind suddenly shifted, parting the whirling snow to right and left, and through the rift thus made, Mr. Maynard’s keen eyes caught a glimpse of a dark mass rising dimly into the air a little more than a mile away. With a shout of joy he slapped his companion upon the back, crying,— "Eagle Rock, Harry. See!" and he pointed with a quivering finger to the spectral appearance. "Once we make that, I can find the road all right enough. Come along!" Cheered by the sight, which the next moment the snow-curtain again hid from them, they pushed forward with renewed energy. It was terribly hard walking. Their snow-shoes sank deep into the drifts at every step, and it was an effort each time to release them. The afternoon was also waning fast, and they had not more than an hour of daylight left at best. Truly they were in desperate straits. On they went over the drifts that seemed to be determined to bar their way, the superintendent straining his eyes for another glimpse of Eagle Rock. At last, as Harry was about once more to cry halt, his companion exclaimed joyfully,— "There’s Eagle Rock, Harry! I see it. We’re making straight for it. A few minutes more will take us there." The cheering announcement revived the boy’s failing energies for another effort. He shut his lips upon the request for a rest, and doggedly tramped on after his guide.