shall," said Serge, cheerfully; "and it'll be something
to talk about when we've done it and are down below in the warm sunshine
to-morrow morning, eating new bread and drinking milk."

"I don't want to talk about it, Serge," said Marcus, beginning to talk
in a dull, drowsy way. "I shall want to sleep and rest. I feel as if I
could do so now."

"Do you? Then you mustn't; and we must stop anyone who tries to. Why,
it reminds me, boy, of old times when we crossed that other pass. Some
of our men would lie down to sleep, but they never got up again."

"Why?" cried Marcus, in a horrified tone.

"Frozen stiff, boy. Once you're up amongst the snow you can't stop,
only to get breath; you must push on; and I wish someone would give me
orders to go on now."

Marcus was silent for a few moments, as if thinking deeply.

"Don't feel more sleepy, boy, do you?" said Serge, sharply.

"No; that seems to have woke me up," was the reply; and taking a few
steps forward with difficulty, for his feet sank right in at every step,
Marcus leaned over into the car and caught Lupe by the ear where he lay
curled up with his rough coat on end.

The boy's movement was quickly and excitedly performed, a feeling of
dread having attacked him that the dog might have been frozen stiff; but
at the touch the animal gave a cheery bark, bounded out of the car, and
began to plough his way through the snow, at first after the fashion of
a pig, and then by throwing himself down first on one side and then upon
the other.

"I was half afraid, Serge," said Marcus.

"You needn't have been, boy," replied the old soldier. "You see,
Nature's given him a warm, thick coat, and he makes it thicker whenever
he likes by setting his bristles up on end."

"But that would make it more open and thinner, Serge."

"Nay, but it don't, boy. Somehow it keeps warm all inside between the
hairs, and the cold can't get through."

"I don't understand why that should be, Serge," said Marcus,
thoughtfully.

"I don't neither," said the man, "but it is so. It's one of those funny
things in Nature. Why, look at the birds. What do they do when a snow
storm comes down from the mountains in winter? They don't squeeze their
feathers down tight, do they?"

"No," said Marcus, thoughtfully; "they seem to set them all up on end,
just as they do when they go to roost, and they look twice as big."

"To be sure they do, boy. You don't feel sleepy now?"

"No, not a bit