He glanced sharply about.
“We must make haste. The storm is rising on us.”
And even as he spoke the air turned raw and cloud wreaths began to float around them. So they back-tracked as fast as they could, and guided by a convenient ravine followed it down with such speed that they reached their camp at the base before dark, but in a snowstorm.
“Well,” sighed John Brown. “The horses are safe, but the birds and beasts have eaten our deer and everything else.”
The lieutenant shot a pheasant; of their meat there was left only two deer-ribs; and they drank and ate.
“Rather limited rations, for five hungry persons after a two-days’ fast,” the doctor joked.
“We have our blankets, and we are safe, sir,” the lieutenant answered. “Such a matter as diet should not enter into the calculations of men who explore the wilderness. They must expect only what they will get.”
“The little cap’n’s a man o’ iron; he’s not flesh and blood,” Terry murmured, to John and Stub. “But I reckon he’d not refuse a bit more rib, himself.”
“With him, when your belt’s at the last hole, why, cut another,” said John.
However, safe they were, although still very hungry. In the morning they rode down the creek, constantly getting lower and finding less snow. Just after noon the men shot two buffalo. That made a full feast—the first square meal in three days. So to-night they camped more comfortably under some shelving rock, outside the hills.