BEYOND THE TRAIL 121

“Do you know we're five thousand feet up in
this pass?”

“Couldn’t be much chillier if it was ten thou-
sand. Hell of a place. Took me shirt off last night,
and it was frozen as stiff as a corpse when I reached
out for it.”

And so we grumbled and cursed and watched
the weather. We were rained on when we walked
to the creek for water or went in search of wood.
We were both rained on and smoked when we
stirred the goat stew over the fire. The only dry
occupation was that of sitting under the canvas
repairing clothes or cutting one another’s hair or
telling yarns while the rain and mist and wailing
wind went mournfully along the pass.

Sleet came slanting across the valley, and new
snow crept down the mountain-sides. Lily stood
watching at the edge of the muskeg, while the
other horses plunged and kicked and ploughed
their frantic way across it. One of them paused
irresolutely, and in doing so was sucked down
until his belly touched the surface of the swamp; he
was pulled out painfully by the head, while his

eyes rolled in terror and his breath came in quick