Then Scotty, the last dog but one, gave up.

They are all lying down in our tracks.
They have a painless death, for they curl up in the snow and fall into a sleep from which they will never wake.

We are left with one dog, Pinkey.

He has not been one of the pullers, but he is not despised.
We can afford to give him plenty of biscuit.

We must nurse him and see if we cannot return with one dog at least.