t was printed on the box. Just below that he
made out:

Powdered sugar
Chocolate
Cocoa butter
Malted milk
Egg Albumin
Casein.
Not to be opened except on command of officer.

My God! He had come to this! He looked at it, wide-eyed. He was very
hungry. The ration, in its blue tin, like a box of shaving talcum, had
been handed to each of the party in a chorus of shouting and laughter.
And now it was to save his life. He managed to pry open the box, and ate
some of its contents, slowly. It was not agreeable.

Dusk was coming on. There were mountain lions, he knew that. Those rocks
and crevices were peopled with all sorts of stealthy, snarling,
slinking, four-footed creatures. He would build a fire. They were
afraid of the flames, he had read somewhere, and would not come near.
Perhaps the others would see the light, and come back to find him. Curse
them! Why hadn't they come before now!

It was dusk by the time he had his fire built. He had crouched over it
for a half-hour, blowing it, coaxing it, wheedling it. There were few
twigs or sticks at this height. He was very cold. His heavy sweater was
in the pack on the horse's back. Finally he was rewarded with a feeble
flicker, a tiny tongue of flame. He rose from his knees and passed his
hand over his forehead with a gesture of utter weariness and despair.
And then he stared, transfixed. For on the plateau above him rose a
great shaft of fire. The kind of fire that only Pete, the most expert
among guides, could build. And as he stared there burst out at him from
behind trees, rocks, crevices, a whole horde of imps shrieking with
fiendish laughter.

"Ho, ho," laughed Jessie.

And "Ha, ha!" howled the Harvard hellions.

"Thought you were lost, didn'tcha?"

"Gosh, you looked funny!"

"Your face!----"

Florian stared at them. He did not smile. He went quietly over to his
tiny camp-fire and stamped it out, neatly, as he had been taught to do.
He took his can of emergency ration (not to be opened except on command
of officer) and hurled it far, far down the mountainside. Jessie Heath
laughed, contemptuously. And Florian, looking at her, didn't care.
Didn't care. Didn't care.

The nightmare was over in August. Over, that is, for Florian. The rest
were to do another four weeks of it, farther into the interior. Florian
sickened at the thought of it. When he bade them farewell he was so glad
to be free of them that he almost loved them. When he found hi