Saying nothing to his wife about the fierceness of the blizzard, he resumed his place by the fire, and wondered if their little shack would withstand the strain. He thought of his poorly protected horses and how they must be suffering with the intense cold, and consoled himself with the thought that he had done all within his power to make them comfortable, even to covering them with the sadly worn blankets that could be used to an advantage on his own poorly provided bed. As for him, he could stay awake and keep the fire burning, and provide warmth for himself and family. With this thought he suggested to his wife that she retire, as the hour was growing late, and he would replenish the fire and follow as soon as he assured himself that all was well. To this arrangement she protested mildly; she felt that should anything go wrong her place was by his side. After assuring her that everything was safe and that he would call her if she was needed, she finally consented, and going to where the sleeping children lay, placed each little straggling arm beneath the cover, and after smoothing their pillows she placed their scattered garments on the foot of the bed for additional warmth, and preparing her own bed, in which little Joe was sleeping soundly, she partially undressed and lay down. Travis Gully, left alone, sat dreaming by the stove, while outside the blizzard raged and tore at the walls of his home. Its intensity was increasing, he thought, or it might be that his loneliness made its varied sounds more audible. Blast after blast was hurled against the structure, and its every timber creaked and groaned with the strain. The canvas covering at the door became inflated and collapsed at irregular intervals, flapping lazily against the door, rising and falling like a sail amidst errant breezes. Gully was soon lulled to drowsiness by the warmth of the stove and varied sounds produced by the gale, and was soon dozing peacefully in his chair. How long he remained in this position he never knew. He was suddenly aroused by a call from his wife, who asked as to the cause of an unusual sound that had awakened her. Gully, thus awakened, noted the chilliness of the room, and renewed the fire, after which he listened intently for a repetition of the sound. He had not long to wait. A sudden fierce blast made the building quiver, and he could distinctly hear a lashing, tearing sound on the north wall. Approaching the window to ascertain, if possible, the cause, he noticed the crunching sound of the trodden snow upon the floor, and felt the cold wind. He instantly realized what had happened. The wind in its maddened fury had torn the tar paper from the outer wall and was driving the finely powdered snow through the cracks and was forming it in slender drifts across the floor. The break was slight at the time of its discovery, but each new onslaught increased the size of the rent and was opening new inlets for the snow and icy wind.