Once more they pushed on, in the very teeth of the blizzard, for such the storm had now become. The wind roared and shrieked around them, often tumbling them and the drags over in the snowdrifts. Soon even Joe was all but winded, and he willingly enough crouched beside Harry and the drags for a brief rest. “This is certainly fierce,” he gasped out. “I never dreamed it would get so bad.” “I only hope we can hold out until we reach some part of the island. If we can’t——” Harry did not finish, but the sigh he gave meant a good deal. “Oh, you don’t want to give up so easily, Harry,” cried his brother, bracing up. “We’ve simply got to get over, or else go back to where we came from. We can’t stay out on the lake all night. We’d be frozen stiff.” Once more they arose and caught hold of the drags. But now the loads were much too heavy for them. “Let us take one and leave the other,” suggested Joe. Feeling that that was the best they could do, they dropped Harry’s deer, and both caught hold of the drag Joe had been pulling. With their burdens thus lightened, they pushed on several hundred yards farther. But that was Harry’s limit, and again he sank down, this time as if ready to faint from exhaustion. “It’s no—no use,” he sighed. “I can’t go an—another step!” “Oh, Harry, you must! We can’t stop here!” “I know that, but m—m—my legs feel as if they weighed a—a ton.” “Here, give me your hand. We’ll let the other deer go, too. Perhaps old Runnell can bring it in in the morning.” “It’s a shame to leave the game——” “I know, but we have got to think of ourselves first. I don’t think we’re so very far from the island. I’ll shoot my gun off as a signal.” Joe did so, and listened for fully a minute for an answering shot. But no sound but the roaring and shrieking of the wind reached their ears. He slung his gun over his shoulder and literally yanked his brother up. “Courage, Harry, courage!” he whispered. “You musn’t give in this way. Brace up, old boy!” “I’m so—so sleepy,” came back, drowsily. “I really can’t go on.” Yet urged by Joe, Harry took a score of steps or more. But now his teeth were chattering from the cold, and he could not stand, try his best. He sank a dead weight on the ice. Filled with a new fear, Joe caught his brother up in his arms. “If I leave him here he’ll surely die!” he muttered, hoarsely. “I must get him to the island somehow! I must!” Throwing the semi-unconscious form over his shoulder, he staggered on until he came to a deep ridge of snow. Here he stumbled and fell. He tried to get up, but his shaking limbs refused to hold him. “It’s no use,” he thought. “It’s all over.” He caught sight of Harry’s gun, and reaching for it, pulled the trigger. He listened, and fancied he heard an answering shot. But he was not sure. It might have been only the wind. “If only the others knew!” he murmured, and then sank down beside Harry, all but unconscious from the cold and exhaustion.