Brace up!" "How far have we come ?" "A good ten miles, an' the compass has kep' us straight." They drew in closer together, and munched a hard cracker apiece, occasionally exchanging a muttered word or two, thrashing their limbs about to keep up circulation, and dampening their lips with snow.

They were but dim, spectral shapes in the darkness, the air filled with crystal pellets, swept about by a merciless wind, the horses standing tails to the storm and heads drooping.

In spite of the light refraction of the snow the eyes could scarcely see two yards away through the smother.

Above, about, the ceaseless wind howled, its icy breath chilling to the bone.

Carroll clambered stiffly into his saddle, crying and swearing from weakness and pain.