the sun shone all was so dazzlingly, glaringly white that
his eyes were struck by temporary blindness.

Upon one of the milder days, which were getting rarer in mid-December,
Neale again visited his comrade on the summit. He found Service in bad
shape. In falling down a slippery ledge he had injured or broken his
lame leg. Neale, with great concern, tried to ascertain the nature
and extent of the harm done, but he was unable to do so. Service was
practically helpless, although not suffering any great pain. The two of
them decided, at length, that he had not broken any bones, but that it
was necessary to move him to where he could be waited upon and
treated, or else some one must be brought in to take care of him. Neale
deliberated a moment.

"I'll tell you what," he said, finally. "You can be moved down to
Slingerland's cabin without pain to you. I'll get Slingerland and his
sled. You'll be more comfortable there. It'll be better all around."

So that was decided upon. And Neale, after doing all he could for
Service, and assuring him that he would return in less than twenty-four
hours, turned his steps for the valley.

The sunset that night struck him as singularly dull, pale, menacing.
He understood its meaning later, when Slingerland said they were in for
another storm. Before dark the wind began to moan through the trees like
lost spirits. The trapper shook his shaggy head ominously.

"Reckon thet sounds bad to me," he said. And from moan it rose to wail,
and from wail to roar.

That alarmed Neale. He went outside and Slingerland followed. Snow
was sweeping down-light, dry, powdery. The wind was piercingly cold.
Slingerland yelled something, but Neale could not distinguish what. When
they got back inside the trapper said:

"Blizzard!"

Neale grew distressed.

"Wal, no use to worry about Service," argued the trapper. "If it is a
blizzard we can't git up thar, thet's all. Mebbe this'll not be so bad.
But I ain't bettin' on thet."

Even Allie couldn't cheer Neale that night. Long after she and the
others had retired he kept up the fire and listened to the roar of the
wind. When the fire died down a little the cabin grew uncomfortably
cold, and this fact attested to a continually dropping temperature. But
he hoped against hope and finally sought his blankets.

Morning came, but the cabin was almost as dark as by night. A blinding,
swirling snow-storm obscured the sun.

A blizzard raged for forty-eight hou