eins,--in a short time the snowfall would even obliterate him!

What a death! Helpless; unable even to meet it standing, he must lie
there, and let the snow bury him alive!

He could maintain a half-sitting posture,--but what use? Why not lie
down flat and get it over quickly? Yet he must hold on as long as
possible, for the men might come back,--he began to think what they
would do--but, he was sure they would not miss him until too late to do
anything. If the snow would only let up. It was such a pity to have his
whereabouts hidden by a foolish fall of snow! As Peter grew colder he
grew calmer. His senses mercifully became numbed at last, and as the
actual moment of his freezing to death came nearer and nearer, he cared
less and less. A state of coma is a blessing to many dying men, and into
this state Peter gently drifted, even as the snow drifted over and
covered his stiff, silent form.

* * * * *

And his friends trudged on; not that it could be called
trudging,--rather, they plodded, stumbled, pitched, fought and merely
achieved progress by blindly plunging ahead.

It was nearly a half hour after Peter's fall that Blair, accidentally
turned round by a gust of wind, called out an exasperated "Halloo!"
which gained no response.

"Halloo!" he repeated, "Peter! how goes it?"

Still no return call, and Blair called to those ahead.

They turned, and, huddling together in the storm, they looked at one
another with scared faces.

"I warned you to keep close together," began Joshua, but forbore to
chide, as he saw the dumb agony in the eyes of the other two men.

"Turn back," said Shelby, "and quickly. How long do you suppose he has
been gone? Has he missed the track? What happened, Joshua?"

"He must have fallen," the guide replied. "Or maybe just strayed off,
blinded by the snow, and he's wandering around yet. He has a compass and
he knows where to head for. Small use our trying to turn back and find
him. He's 'way off by this time,--or, maybe, he ain't. Maybe he's close
behind,--we couldn't see him ten yards off in this snow."

"I never saw such a thickness of white!" exclaimed Blair. "I've heard
that when snow is so white and feathery, it doesn't last long."

"This snow does," returned Joshua, "and I tell you, Mr. Shelby, there's
no use turning back. We'd just waste our time,--maybe our lives----"

"But, man, we can't go without Crane!" Shelby cried. "I won't go on and
lea