He led the horse into the lower edge of these, where some protection was secured, and, crouching once more in the lee of the animal, he unfolded the two blankets, which he wrapped closely about himself to the eyes.
Ned, for the first time since the Norther rushed down upon him, felt secure.

He would not freeze to death, he would escape the fate that sometimes overtook lone hunters or travelers upon those vast plains.
Warmth from the blankets began gradually to replace the chill in his bones, and the horse and the bushes together protected his face from the driven snow which had been cutting like hail.

He even had, in some degree, the sense of comfort which one feels when safe inside four walls with a storm raging past the windows.

The horse whinnied once and rubbed his nose against Ned's hand.

He, too, had ceased to shiver.
All that afternoon the Norther blew with undiminished violence.