The drifts had blown clear of the narrow ridge down which poor Buster had slid. They dared not trust the horses here, but dismounted and crept gingerly across, the animals slipping and snorting behind them. They rested after the crossing, and Douglas saw that tears were frozen on Judith's lashes. "Judith, I believe the old horse was glad to go in service that way," he said. Judith shook her head. "It's been a terribly expensive trip," she said. "Old Johnny and Buster." "Expensive for them, yes,--poor old scouts both of them," Douglas sighed, then added, "But, God, what a marvelous trip for me!" "And for me!" Judith nodded soberly. They beat their hands across their breasts and remounted, silently. All the brilliant afternoon, they worked their uneven way upward. Each of the horses was down again and again. Both Judith and Douglas were bruised and cut by ice. Both were drawing breath in rapid sobs when, just before sunset, they fought the last few yards to the level of the Pass, won to it, and lay on the icy ledge, exhausted. Wolf Cub nosed them and whined disconsolately. "You're right--old hunter--!" gasped Douglas. "If we--don't--keep moving--the cold--will get us!" Judith, who had been lying on her back staring at the sky, rolled over on her face and struggled to her hands and knees. "Keep that--wild--elephant--you call--a horse in a long lead--or he'll step on you--Doug!" she called. "Give me--a long--start, then!" Douglas started forward on hands and knees. The little wild mare was as careful in following Judith as was the Wolf Cub. But Tom gave constant evidence of an earnest desire to walk on Douglas instead of the trail. He was too tired now, however, to be ugly, and the Pass was crossed without accident or incident. It was dusk when they made the great rocks where 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."