Staggering himself like a drunken man, the Sergeant dragged the nerveless body into a crevice of the bluff out of the wild sweep of the wind, trampled aside the snow into a wall of shelter, built a hasty fire, and poured hot coffee between the shivering lips.

With the earliest gray of another dawn, the white man caught the strongest pony, and rode on alone.

He never knew the story of those hours--only that his trail led straight into the north.

He rode erect at first, then leaning forward clinging to the mane; now and then he staggered along on foot dragging his pony by the rein.

Once he stopped to eat, breaking the ice in a creek for water.