These were doled out in scanty allowances, barely sufficient to keep up existence, and at length failed them altogether.

Still they crept feebly on, scarce dragging one limb after another, until a severe snow-storm brought them to a pause.

To struggle against it, in their exhausted condition, was impossible, so cowering under an impending rock at the foot of a steep mountain, they prepared themselves for that wretched fate which seemed inevitable.
At this critical juncture, when famine stared them in the face, M'Lellan casting up his eyes, beheld an ahsahta, or bighorn, sheltering itself under a shelving rock on the side of the hill above them.

Being in a more active plight than any of his comrades, and an excellent marksman, he set off to get within shot of the animal.

His companions watched his movements with breathless anxiety, for their lives depended upon his success.