He began to sweat as he strove to keep pace. Snedeker was older than he
but Snedeker had worn snowshoes for years. Joe took his hat off and
brushed his sweaty face with a gloved hand. He would keep going if it
killed him, and judging by the way his legs were beginning to ache it
might do just that. Snedeker dropped back to offer him a chunk of meat.
"Pemmican," he said. "It'll stay by a man."
Joe ate and, from the food, he took a new store of strength. He fought
his way to within six feet of Snedeker while the sun rose on a heaped
and drifted world.
"Did you know the storm was coming?" he called.
"Don't be an idjit, man. Think I'd of let those kids go if I had?"
They went on, and it seemed to Joe that he had walked forever and must
continue to walk. It was his curse for letting two youngsters, two who
were scarcely more than children, risk their lives in this terrible
white hell. But when he looked at his watch he discovered that he had
been walking for only four hours. Then they mounted a knoll and Snedeker
stopped to point.
At the foot of the knoll, two riderless horses were churning through a
drift. Behind them came two people, the leader dressed in a buffalo skin
coat and a silver-tasseled hat while the other wore Barbara's heavy
brown coat. Forgetting that he did not know how to snowshoe, Joe ran,
and he was neck and neck with Snedeker when they reached the pair. The
winded, tired horses stopped to rest. Joe leaped into the trench they
had broken to fling both arms about his daughter.
"Bobby!"
"Hello, Daddy! Was Mother worried?"
"A mite," Joe admitted. He looked at her weary face and hugged her
again. "How did you ride out the storm?"
Ellis said, "We never reached Laramie. The snow caught us close to that
cabin under the knoll." Joe remembered the cabin; they'd seen buffalo
near it. Ellis finished, "We had to spend the night there."
An iron band tightened around Joe's heart. He gulped and wondered how he
would tell this to Emma.
"No fireplace thar." Snedeker asserted. "No wood nuther. How'd you keep
warm?"
Ellis said, "We spread buffalo robes on the floor, covered ourselves
with others and lay together to keep each other warm." He looked
squarely at Joe. "It was the only way."
Their faces were weary. But somehow they were shining and happy and
there was only innocence written upon them. Joe's heart sank again.
Barbara edged very close to Ellis, took his arm, and laughed.
"We ate the rest of mother's lunch for breakfast. Daddy! Ham sandwiches
for breakfast are wonderful if you're hungry enough!"