colder, and their clothes were now only ragged strips.
Then came days when sharp, biting winds whipped through the canyon they
followed, or headed against them on some plateau, and they were forced
to face new issues. Food was less plentiful, and winter was at hand. To
be sure they were in the tropics, but on the mountains the air was cold,
and warmer clothes became imperative.

Claire's ankle was almost well. After weeks of pain, which she had borne
bravely, it was healing, and the time was near when she would be able to
walk. Shoes were absolutely essential for her. Furthermore, Lawrence's
own shoes were worn through, and his walking was becoming a continual
pain. In spite of Claire's increasingly careful guidance, he stepped on
small, sharp rocks that dug into his flesh. He did not complain, but
Claire knew that he was suffering. The times when he stepped out freely
became more and more seldom, and his face was usually taut.

They were, indeed, a pitiable couple. Lawrence's thin face was shaggy
with hair. Claire's once soft skin was now brown and hard. Both were
thin and wiry, with the gaunt lines of the undernourished showing
plainly.

One morning, to fight the frost that bit into them, they were forced to
build a fire long before dawn. As they sat huddled together over it,
Lawrence finally broached the subject that had been engrossing both
their minds for days.

"Claire," he said thoughtfully, "we can't make it through. We'll have to
find a place somewhere and prepare for winter. It's tough, but it's
inevitable. I hate to give up now, but it will be even worse for us if
we don't get meat, fur, and a house against the snow that will soon be
covering everything."

"I know," she said sadly, her thin hands supporting her chin. "It seems
as though we had played our long farce to its end. Death is as
inexorable in its demands as life." The circles under her eyes were
great half-moons.

"We have done well, though," he argued. "We've done better than well.
Who would have believed that a blind man and a crippled woman could have
come as far as this?"

"I didn't believe it, Lawrence," she said, and her voice and eyes were
full of a warmth that had grown of late to be fairly constant. "I
didn't believe it, and I wouldn't believe it now if I were told the
story back home."

"I'm not sure; I might have," Lawrence said proudly. "I know the blind
and their capabilities."

"I'm learning to know them," she admitted, and