The red but cold edge of the sun appeared above the mountains that he had left behind, and then the morning came, pale and cold.
Dick stopped at a little brook, broke the ice and drank, letting his horse drink after him.

Then he ate heartily of the cold bread and meat in his knapsack.

Pitying his horse he searched until he found a little grass not yet killed by winter in the lee of the hill, and waited until he cropped it all.
He mounted and resumed his journey through a country in which the hills were steadily becoming lower, with larger stretches of level land appearing between them.

By night he should be beyond the last low swell of the mountains and into the hill region proper.

As he calculated distances his heart gave a great thump.