Cahill fell back among the furs, and Hager leisurely shaved kindling and stacked the wood and then set it ablaze. The ravine was shielded from the wind, and the wood ignited without difficulty. At last Hager went to the sled and removed the small pack he had fortunately thought to bring along. His experience with the wilderness had trained him never to overlook the smallest precautions.
Hager took a handled pan from the pack. He filled it with snow and then held the pan over the flames. When the snow melted, he filled a tin cup with the liquid and went over to Cahill. He had to steady the cup as the other drank.
Finally Cahill nodded. His eyes seemed to clear. He glanced about him, and a dim worry moved in his face.
"Matt, where are we?"
"Somewhere near Boot Valley."
"You ... you mean we're lost?"
"I sort of got mixed up in the storm. Nothing to worry about."
Cahill shivered suddenly. "We got to reach town, Matt. Got to see the doctor."
Hager nodded. "How do you feel?"
"It's getting worse. I can feel it getting worse. I'm cold now, Matt. Before ... before I was...." Cahill's voice trailed off. He had to make an effort before he was able to speak again. "Got ... got to see the doctor, Matt. Can't waste any time."