That was now the only chance of safety. Would he
ever find them?
Deeper and deeper sank his horse into the snow; harder and harder it
became to raise its hoofs clear for the next step. Snorting with fear,
and trembling in every limb, the gallant beast struggled on. He _must_
go on! To stop would be fatal. Benumbed as he was by the intense cold,
bewildered by the storm, with hand and voice Jim cheered on his steed,
and nobly it responded.
Suddenly it sank under him. A hollow, treacherously concealed by the
snow, had received them both into its chilly depths.
"Up again, old boy!" cried Jim, springing from the saddle, and tugging
at the rein, sinking to the waist in the soft snow as he did so. "Now
then, one more try!"
The faithful horse struggled desperately to respond to the words. But
its strength was spent; its utmost exertions would not suffice to
extricate it. The soft snow gave way under its hoofs; deeper and deeper
it sank. With a despairing scream it made a last futile effort, then it
stretched its neck along the snow, and with a sob lay down to die.
Further efforts to move it would be thrown away, and Jim knew it. In a
few minutes it would be wrapped in its winding-sheet.
With a lump in his throat Jim turned away--whither? His own powers had
nearly ebbed out. Of what use was it to battle further against the gale,
when he knew not in which direction to go?
With a sharp setting of the teeth he set himself to stimulate into
activity his benumbed faculties.
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