half-frozen feet for the
depression of the trail, and grappling with a horrible dismay when she
failed to find it. She was never sure to what extent she guided the
team, or how far from mere force of habit they headed for the bluff, but
as the time went by, and there was nothing before her but the whirling
snow, she grew feverishly apprehensive. The trail was becoming fainter
and fainter, and now and then she could find no trace of it for several
minutes.

The horses floundered on, blurred shapes as white as the haze they crept
through, and at length she felt that they were dipping into a hollow.
Then a faint sense of comfort crept into her heart as she remembered
that a shallow ravine which seamed the prairie ran through the bluff.
She called out, and started at the faintness of her voice. It seemed
such a pitifully feeble thing. There was no answer, nothing but the soft
fall of the horses' hoofs and the wail of the wind, but the wind was
reassuring, for the volume of sound suggested that it was driving
through a bluff close by.

A few minutes later Agatha cried out again, and this time she felt the
throbbing of her heart, for a faint sound came out of the whirling haze.
She pulled the horses up, and as she stood still listening, a blurred
object appeared almost in front of them. It shambled forward in a
curious manner, stopped, and moved again, and in another moment or two
Hastings lurched by her with a stagger and sank down into a huddled
white heap on the sled. She turned back towards him, and he seemed to
look up at her.

"Turn the team," he said.

Agatha obeyed, and sat down beside him when the horses moved on again.

"A small birch I was chopping fell on me," he said. "I don't know
whether it smashed my ankle, or whether I twisted it wriggling
clear--the thing pinned me down. It is badly hurt anyway."

He spoke disconnectedly and hoarsely, as if in pain, and Agatha, who
noticed that one of his gum boots was almost ripped to pieces, realized
part of what he must have suffered. She knew that nobody pinned to the
ground and helpless could have withstood that cold for more than a very
little while.

"Oh," she cried, "it must have been dreadful!"

"I found a branch," Hastings added. "It helped me, but I fell over every
now and then. Headed for the homestead. Don't think I could have made it
if you hadn't come for me!" He stopped abruptly, and turned to her. "You
mustn't sit down. Walk--keep warm--but don't