He will live." A bit stupidly McKay rose to his feet.

He swayed a little, and for the first time sensed the hot tears that had blinded his eyes and wet his cheeks.

And then there came a sobbing laugh out of his throat and he went to the window of the Frenchman's shack and stared out into the white world, seeing nothing.

He had stood in the presence of death many times before but never had that presence choked up his heart as in this hour when the soul of Peter, his comrade, had stood falteringly for a space half-way between the living and the dead.
When he turned from the window Boileau was covering Peter's body with blankets and a warm bear skin.

And for many days thereafter Peter was nursed through the slow sickness which followed.
An early spring came this year in the northland.