His feet were torn and bleeding.

But the voice of baby Joan filled him with a strange happiness, and he lay down in his traces, while the man carried Joan and the baby into the life and warmth of the cabin.
A few minutes later the man reappeared.

He was not old, like Pierre Radisson.

He came close to Kazan, and looked down at him.
"My God," he said.

"And you did that--_alone!_" He bent down fearlessly, unfastened him from the traces, and led him toward the cabin door.