There was one thing, however, which he comprehended very clearly. If he stayed where he was much longer, he would never come out alive. He had not heard the second signal of Nick, but was confident that he was able to take care of himself, with his almost unlimited supply of blankets.
There was one way of warming himself: that was by vigorous exercise. That might not answer perfectly, but it must help matters. He, therefore, crept out of his refuge, and began making his way down to the pool near which he had left his pony. The gloom was too profound for him to see anything distinctly, and he came within a hair of pitching headlong into the water, along the edges of which a thin coating of ice had formed.
It was at this time that Herbert was gratified to notice a decided rising of the temperature. The relief was great, but not enough wholly to relieve his sufferings. He called his pony by name, but of course there was no response.
“He has been more sensible than me,” he concluded, “for he has gone to the spring, where Nick has started a fire for him and made them all comfortable while I suffered.”
The reader need not be reminded that once again Herbert was off in his reckoning.
He spent the next ten minutes in jumping about, swinging his arms, and going through the most violent gymnastics possible. The effect was good. His benumbed limbs became supple, the chilled surface began glowing, and a grateful warmth crept through his entire system.
It would have been folly to try to reach Nick by working across the neck of bowlders and obstructions, and he started down the trail in the direction taken by Jill, though he was a long way behind him.
This required no little care, even though he was following a distinctly marked trail. In the darkness he received several severe bruises, besides tumbling flat on his face more than once. But he kept his wits about him, and made sure that he did not pass the fork, where it was necessary to turn off and follow the trail taken by Nick, and which had proven to be the right one.
Here it was necessary to use still greater care than before, for the route was strange to him, and might contain dangerous pitfalls.
“Nick will wonder what’s become of me,” he reflected, maintaining as lively a pace as he dared, “but I hope he hasn’t worried—halloo! that’s good!” he added, as he caught the twinkle of a fire; “that’s where I will find the good fellow, who has known enough to take care of himself and the ponies, and would have done the same with me if I hadn’t been so foolish.”