The cattle wandered away and I came within an ace of losing them altogether.

When I got started again the snow was so deep I couldn't make much headway." "Well, you're here," I said, giving him a hug.
Harrington had made a trip few men could have made.

He had risked his life to save mine.

All alone he had brought a yoke of oxen over a country where the trails were all obscured and the blinding snow made every added mile more perilous.
I was still unable to walk, and he had to do all the work of packing up for the trip home.

In a few days he had loaded the pelts on board the wagon, covered it with the wagon-sheet we had used in the dugout, and made me a comfortable bed inside.