Harding's clothes were badly torn and his boots giving out; his breath was labored, and his heart beat painfully, but he pressed on upward, without slackening his pace, for he knew there was no time to be lost.
It was exhausting toil, and trying to the man who, until he entered that grim country, had undergone no physical training and had seldom tried his muscles; being left to shift for himself at an unusually early age had prevented his even playing outdoor games.

His career had been a humble one, but it had taught him self-reliance, and when he was thrown into the company of men brought up in a higher station he was not surprised that they accepted him as an equal and a comrade.

There was, however, nothing assertive in the man; he knew his powers and their limitations.

Now he clearly recognized that he had undertaken a big thing; but the need was urgent, and he meant to see it through.

He was of essentially practical temperament, a man of action, and it was necessary that he should keep up with his Indian guide as long as possible.