“I have found a man,” came the surprising reply.
“A man? Frozen?”
Neil hurried to join Louis, who was on his knees trying to unroll the blanket that wrapped the motionless form lying in the snow. Neil stooped to help.
“His heart beats. He still breathes,” Louis exclaimed. “But he is cold, cold as ice. Make a fire, you and Walter. I will rub him and try to keep the life in.”
Neil snatched the ax from the sled. Walter kicked off his snowshoes and set to work digging and scraping away the snow. As soon as he had kindled some fine shavings and added larger wood to make a good blaze, he helped Louis to carry the unconscious man nearer the fire. As they laid him down where the firelight shone on his face, Walter gave a cry of surprise and horror.
“Monsieur Perier! It is Monsieur Perier, Louis!”
He recalled Louis’ certainty that the tracks were those of a man, a boy, and a woman. “Where are the others?” he cried. “Where are Elise and Max?”
Without waiting for an answer, he sprang up and began to search. In a hollow in the snow in the lee of a leafless bush, completely hidden in deep shadow, he found another huddled heap wrapped in blankets; Elise and Max clasped in each other’s arms. Between them and the place where their father had lain were the ashes of a dead fire.
XXVI
ELISE’S STORY
Both children were alive. When Walter and Neil tried to separate them, they aroused Max. The little fellow was stupid with cold and heavy sleep, but seemed otherwise to be all right. Walter carried Elise nearer, but not too near, to the fire. Kneeling beside her, he rubbed her ice-cold feet, legs, and arms to restore circulation. The rubbing brought her back to consciousness, dazed and wondering, to find her big brother—as she called Walter—bending over her. As soon as the daze of her first awakening passed, she asked for her father. Assuring her that Louis was looking after him, Walter made her stay near the fire and drink some of the strong, scalding tea.