Okanagan's eyes were very steady, but there was a little glow down at the back of them.
"Nicked across with a hack saw or a file--and it's not all here," he said.

"It strikes me the sooner we find the rest of it the better this weather." Seaforth drew in his breath.

A strip of lead torn off that bullet was rankling in his comrade's flesh, and during the night bitter frost had laid its grip upon the forest.

Wounds, he knew, do not heal, but fester under such conditions.
"You can do it, Tom!" he said, and his voice was hoarse.
"I'll try--when he wakes," said Okanagan.

"You'll find some flat stones by the river.