Douglas had camped before. Judith's strength was gone. She pulled the reins over the little wild mare's head and tried to pull her ax from its sheath. But her benumbed fingers refused to act.
"Keep moving, Jude!" urged Douglas. "Just till I can get a fire started. Don't stop walking for a moment!"
When at last a blaze was going before the rocks, Doug unrolled the blankets from the lead-horse and wrapped Judith in them. She crouched against the face of the rocks in silence while Douglas put the coffee-pot to boil and thawed out the bacon. It was not until she had swallowed a second cup of the steaming beverage that the snow stupor left her eyes.
Suddenly she smiled, and said, "It almost nipped us that time, Douglas!"
"And yet you thought you could make Bowdin's ranch alone!" grunted Douglas.
"It would have been getting warmer all the time. There would have been nothing like this!" shivering as a great blast of wind swept over the top of the rock heap.
"You risked death in every step," insisted Douglas. "It was like going down a canyon wall, not a mountainside. The drifts and ice made it impossible to tell how your next movement would end."
"Well," sighed Judith, "I don't think I'm regretting my decision. This might be worse," stretching out her mittened hands to the blaze.
"Nice, girlish kind of amusements you enjoy!" grunted Douglas, with a little grin. "Something quiet and restful about playing games with you, Jude! Now listen, my dearest, don't close your eyes until I tell you you may.
