o farther to-night. At the margin of the stream Ben rode along until
he found a spot where the full strength of the current ate into the
bank. There on the thinner ice he hammered with the butt of his heavy
rifle until he broke a hole; then, the dumb one first, the two friends
drank their fill. After that, side by side, they walked back until in
the shelter of a high knoll the man found a space of perhaps half an
acre where the grass, thick and unpastured, was practically bare of
snow. Here he removed saddle and bridle, and without lariat or
hobble--for they knew each other now, these two--he turned the pony
loose to graze. He himself, with the kit and blanket and a handful of
dead wood, went to the hill-top, where he could see for miles around,
built a tiny fire, an Indian's fire, made a can of strong black coffee,
and ate of the jerked beef he had brought. Later, he cleared a spot the
size of a man's grave, and with grass and the blanket built a shallow
nest, in which he stretched himself, his elbow on the earth, his face in
his hand, thinking, thinking.

The night came on. As the eastern sky had done in the morning, so now
the west crimsoned gloriously, became the color of blood, then gradually
shaded back until it was neutral again, and the stars from a few
scattering dots increased in numbers and filled the dome as scattered
sand-grains cover a floor. Darkness came, and with it the slight wind of
the day died down until the air was perfectly still. The cold, which had
retreated for a time, returned, augmented. As though it were a live
thing moving about, its coming could be heard in the almost
indistinguishable crackling of the snow-crust. As beneath a crushing
weight, the ice of the great river boomed and crackled from its touch.

Wide-eyed but impassive, the man watched and listened. Scarcely a muscle
of his body moved. Not once, as the hours slipped by, did he drowse; not
for an instant was he off his guard. With the first trace of morning in
the east, he was astir. As on the night before, he made his Indian's
fire, ate his handful of beef, and drank of the strong black coffee.
The pony, sleepy as a child, was aroused and saddled. The ice which had
frozen during the night over their drinking-hole was broken. Then, both
man and horse stiff and sore from the exposure and the previous
exertion, the trail was taken up anew.

For five miles, until both were warmed to their work, the man and beast
trotted along side