ed the lay of the
land, the topography of his particular stretch of Sherman Pass. And one
day, taking an early start from camp, he set forth to make his first
call upon his nearest associate in this work, the engineer Service.
Once high up on the pass he found the snow had not all melted, and still
higher it lay white and unbroken as far as he could see. The air was
keener up there. Neale gathered that Service would have a colder job
than his own, if it was not so long and hard.

He found Service at home in his dugout, warm and comfortable and in
excellent spirits. They compared notes, and even in this early work they
decided it would be a wise plan for the engineering staff to study the
problem of drifting snow.

Neale enjoyed a meal with Service, and then, early in the afternoon, he
started back on his long tramp homeward. He gathered from his visit that
Service did not mind the lonesomeness, but that he did suffer from the
cold more than he had expected. Service was not an active, full-blooded
man, and Neale had some misgivings. Judging from the trapper's remarks,
winter high up in the Wyoming hills was something to dread.

November brought the real storms--the gray banks of rolling cloud, the
rain and sleet and snow and ice, and the wind. Neale concluded he had
never before faced a real wind, and when, one day on a ridge-top, he was
blown off his feet he was sure of it. Some days he could not go out at
all. Other days it was not imperative, for it was only during and after
snow-storms that he could make observations. He learned to travel on
snow-shoes, and ten miles of such traveling up and down the steep slopes
was the most killing hard toil he had ever attempted. After such trips
he would reach the cabin utterly fagged out, too tired to eat, too
weary, to talk, almost too dead to hear the solicitations of his friends
or to appreciate Allie's tender, anxious care. If he had not been strong
and robust and in good training to begin with, he would have failed
under the burden. Gradually he grew used to the strenuous toil, and
became hardened, tough, and enduring.

Though Neale hated the cold and the wind, there were moments when an
exceedingly keen exhilaration uplifted him. These experiences visited
him while on the heights, looking far over the snowy ridges to, the
white, monotonous plain or up toward the shining peaks. All seemed
barren and cold. He never saw a living creature or a track upon those
slopes. When