Yet, though they but vaguely perceived it, a slight change for the better was taking place in the weather. Overhead there were rifts in the clouds. To the northwest a patch of pale blue sky showed for a moment; was lost; reappeared, and grew in size. But the gale still blew strongly, if not with quite its earlier savage fury; and there was no rise in temperature. They toiled on doggedly. Still veering slightly to the right, they came closer and closer to the summit of the ridge. Finally they gained it. Beyond was a broader valley. Sam clutched Orkney’s arm. “Look!” he gasped. “Yonder--a house! See it? Not a mile away!” “There’s another--nearer--lower down!” cried Tom. Sam gazed hungrily in the direction in which the other pointed. “I see it! We can make it! Hur-hurrah!” “Hur-hurrah!” echoed Orkney; but he caught at Sam’s arm, as Sam had caught at his. For a moment they clung to each other, swaying with weakness, dazed a little, it may be, by the sudden brightening of their hopes. “Let--let’s rest a bit,” said Sam unsteadily. “Then--then we’ll go ahead. Noth-nothing can stop us now!” “Not when we can see smoke whipping from that chimney!” “Sure! Smoke means fire--and people--and everything!” “And almost within arm’s reach!” In fact, the house with the smoking chimney was a weary distance from them; but unexpected help was nearer at hand. For, while they still stood gazing into the broad valley, a curious procession emerged from a clump of woods at the bottom of the hill. It was a long line of yoked oxen, pair following pair through the snow, while about them floundered shouting men, urging them on with whip and goad. Sam’s voice rose in an exultant cry. “See that! Whole neighborhood turned out to break roads! Come on, Tom; come on!” But Orkney, clutching his arm the tighter, held him back. “Wait a minute! I’ve got to tell you something. I want to tell it now--while we’re alone.” “Oh! another time----”