g out, the warm
winds blew, and there were the mountains. Perhaps the snow had
not been so heavy on them as on the plain, but most of it was
gone from the peaks and slopes and they stood up, sheltering and
beautiful, with a shade of green that the snow had not been able
to take away.

The sight put fresh courage in Dick's heart, but he was very
weak. He staggered as he plowed through the mixed snow and
mud, and plains and mountains alike were rocking about in a
most uncertain fashion.

In a ravine at the foot of the mountains he saw a herd of about
twenty buffaloes which had probably taken refuge there from the
snowstorm, but he did not molest them. Instead, he shook his
rifle at them and called out:

"I'm too glad to escape with my own life to take any of yours."

Dick's brain was in a feverish state and he was not wholly
responsible for what he said or did, but he began the ascent with
a fairly good supply of strength and toiled on all the day. He
never knew where he slept that night, but he thinks it was in a
clump of pines, and the next morning when he continued, he felt
that he had made a wonderful improvement. His feet were light
and so was his head, but he had never before seen slopes and
peaks and pines and ash doing a daylight dance. They whirled
about in the most eccentric manner, yet it was all exhilarating,
in thorough accord with his own spirits, and Dick laughed aloud
with glee. What a merry, funny world it was! Feet and head both
grew lighter. He shouted aloud and began to sing. Then he felt
so strong and exuberant that he ran down one of the slopes,
waving his cap. An elk sprang out of a pine thicket, stared a
moment or two with startled eyes at the boy, and then dashed away
over the mountain.

Dick continued to sing, and waved his fur cap at the fleeing
elk. It was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life.
The whirling dance of mountain and forest became bewildering in
its speed and violence. He was unable to keep his feet, and
plunged forward into the arms of his brother, Albert. Then
everything sank away from him.

Chapter XIII
Albert's Victory

When Dick opened his eyes again he raised his hand once more to
wave it at the fleeing elk and then he stopped in astonishment.
The hand was singularly weak. He had made a great effort, but
it did not go up very far. Nor did his eyes, which had opened
slowly and heavily, see any elk. They saw instead rows and rows
of