."

He looked up at the lofty ridges hidden now and then by the whirling snow,
and his eyes glistened. It was a stern and wild scene, but he knew that
it made the snug cove and the log cabins all the snugger. The flakes
were increasing now, and an evil wind was driving them hard in the men's
faces. The wind, as it came through the gorges, had many voices, too,
howling and shrieking in wrath. The young troopers were devoutly
grateful for the heavy overcoats and gloves with which a thoughtful
general had provided them.

But there was one man in the regiment to whom wind and snow brought a
certain pleasure. It took Sergeant Whitley back to earlier days.
He was riding once more with his command over the great plains, and the
foe they sought was a Cheyenne or Sioux band. Here, they needed him and
his wilderness lore, and he felt that a full use for them all would come.

The mountaineer now led them on rapidly, but the snow was increasing with
equal rapidity. Fortunately, the road through the pass was level enough
to provide good footing for the horses, and they proceeded without fear
of falls. Soon the entire column turned into a white procession.
Men and horses alike were covered with snow, but, after their first chill,
the hardy young riders began to like it. They sang one of their marching
songs, and the colonel made no effort to restrain them, knowing that it
was raising their spirits.

"It's all rather picturesque," said Warner, when the song was over,
"but it'll be a good thing when Reed leads us into one of those heavenly
coves that he talks so much about. I think this snow is going to be
about forty feet deep, and it will be hard for a column of three hundred
men to proceed by means of tunnels."

The mountaineer riding by the side of Colonel Winchester was looking
eagerly, whenever a break in the clouds occurred. At length, he asked
him for the glasses again and, after looking intently, said:

"Jest between the edges uv two clouds I caught a glimpse uv a man,
an' he wuz wavin' a flag, which wuz a sheet from his own bed. It would
be Jake Hening, 'cause that wuz his place, an' he told me to go straight
on to the cove, ez they wuz now expectin' us thar!"

"Who is expecting us?"

"Friends uv ours. People 'roun' here in the mountings who want to see
you make hash uv them gorillers. I reckon they're fixin' things to keep
you warm. We oughter see another man an' his sheet afore long. Thar
would be n