It was about three days later that a big storm set in. Relentlessly it blew and snowed and the gales were almost unbreastable.
"Don't dare stop," said Joshua, in his usual laconic way; "the winter's set in, and any day may be worse'n the day before. Old Merk is down to twenty-four, and we want to peg ahead,—that's what we want to do."
They did,—by day,—and by night they enjoyed the rest and warmth of camp, but still, Joshua urged them ahead continually.
He parceled out longer days and shorter nights, until even strong Peter began to feel the strain.
Shelby was of a wiry sort, and stood hard going well; Blair was a patient, plodding nature and wouldn't have complained if he had dropped in his tracks; but Peter was impulsive and impatient, and he growled frankly.
"We'll get there, Eli," he said to the guide; "don't hustle us so."
"Got to do it, Mr. Crane. I know more about this here winter that's closing in on us, than you do. It's a bit early, but it's sure!"
So on they went, through snow that was wet and heavy, through icy sleet that stung and cut their faces, through roaring winds that choked their lungs, but full of indomitable courage and perseverance and of unimpaired good nature.
And yet a week of this traveling at last began to tell on their morale. Not that they grew testy or irritable, but the silences were longer, the repartee less gay, and even buoyant Peter's spirits drooped a little.
Joshua then took a turn as comforter.