"It's nip and tuck which sort of end will get us sooner or later," remarked Mayhew soberly; almost as though he had made up his mind that there was no use of resisting his manifest destiny. "Let's get away from this horrible place as soon as we can, Dick," urged Roger. "As to spending the night here, you will have to excuse me! We had better shoulder our packs and--oh! where are they, Dick? I am sure I laid mine down at the time we stopped to take a look around." Dick looked deeply worried. "Yes, the three of us did the same thing. As you say, they have disappeared, and I fear we have lost our blankets and provisions and extra ammunition." His words created a panic in the breast of his comrade, for Roger scrambled to his feet from his knees, clutching the sleeve of Dick's deerskin hunting tunic, and crying out: "Oh! can it be possible that they were carried down with that avalanche when the slip occurred? And do you think we can recover them again?" "I hope so," replied the other lad, soberly, "for it will be a serious thing for us if we lose all we had in those packs. But we must be careful how we approach the edge, if it crumbles so easily. We would not care to be carried after our blankets, riding an avalanche!" Cautiously picking their way, they finally managed to creep to where they could look down into the yawning abyss. It filled them with awe and despair. So far as they could see the walls were almost perpendicular, and extended far beyond their limited range of vision. "We could never get down there alive," Roger confessed, as he looked shudderingly into the chasm that had swallowed up their valued possessions. "And I am afraid we have seen the last of those blankets." "Of course," said the other, consolingly, "once we return to the camp we can obtain warm furs from the Indians, that will take their place for sleeping purposes." "But what are we to do now," reasoned Roger, "far away from the Mandan village, and so situated that we dare not build a camp fire at night, no matter how bitter cold it turns?" "That is a hard question for me to answer," Dick admitted, candidly. "If it comes to the worst, of course we can turn back, and give over our hunt for Jasper Williams. If he should change his mind and return to the camp all would be well. On the other hand, if he stayed out the main part of the winter, or the Indians were holding him a prisoner, we would stand to lose all we had won." "And our dear parents must see their homes taken away from them by that rascally Lascelles," groaned Roger, grinding his teeth in his distress. "Dick, sooner than allow that, I would try to stay out here all winter, taking my chances with the wolves, the Indians, and these terrible things that surround us on every side." "Remember our old motto, Roger, that carried us through so many troubles in the past--never despair, no matter how black the skies look. We will come out on top yet,--we _must_!"