y
quickly. To my astonishment the Indians answered, "Us no go--us go
back--so cold, ugh!--pipe of the Great Spirit gone out--us go back!" To
our questionings and urgings they only grunted, shook their heads, and
answered as before. So all Mallory and I could do was to let the
fellows take their way. We packed the game in the stone mound, and
piled stones and brushwood against its entrance and smoke-hole; and then
with our guns, and the jug of what was left of the coffee on a sling
between us, we started on our way.

That day's journey is a distressing remembrance. Despite the cold, we
advanced briskly enough until noon. Then the wind grew stronger, whilst
we got weak from the exposure. The cold increased. A numbness of mind
and body was creeping over us, and our limbs were heavy to move. At
about three we stopped, and in what shelter we could find, built a great
fire; and heating the coffee as hot as we could swallow it, drank nearly
all that remained, and ate a dinner. That strengthened and warmed us up
enough to help us along until sunset. We were then only four or five
miles from camp; but had not the wind gone down with the sun, we must
have perished before reaching home, for from that time our sufferings
increased, and both of us grew drowsy. Several times Mallory's halting
steps stopped entirely, and he would have gone into the fatal sleep
which precedes death from freezing, had I not shaken him and pushed and
urged him. To me it was like walking in a sleep.

I dragged along almost unconsciously, and yet knowing enough to keep the
river track and move my legs. The fact that Mallory was nearer death
than I--which was shown by his constant attempts to lie down--kept me
up. The sense of responsibility aroused my mind. I would implore him
to try to walk for a little while longer, and then push him along again.
About eight o'clock I got a fire going again, and made Mallory drink,
the last drop. I told him we were not more than half a mile from the
cabins--that he must rouse up now, and strive with me to reach our
friends. "Was he willing to die," I asked, "just as we were on the
threshold of safety?" The coffee helped him a little, but I had had
none, so in that last struggle he was as strong as I. That half-mile
was only accomplished after an hour's walking, and in every minute of
that hour I felt that I could not make another effort.

At length we staggered to the door of Maine Mallory's cabin,