"Cæsar!" she cried, "this is something serious. I have often seen Nalla tired out, and sometimes sick, but never so bad as this. He no doubt needs a warm mash to revive him, and I haven't a thing out of which to make it."
Cæsar formed a resolution with his wonted promptness.
"Nadine," he said, "I'll go right away to Mamezan for the help we need. It is now four o'clock. I'll be back before midnight."
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RECOVERY OF NALLA.
"You're a brave boy, Cæsar!" cried Nadine, her face glowing with love and pride. "But do you realize what that would mean? You could hardly make a mile an hour through this deep snow. It is above your knees, and you would soon become exhausted by wading through it. No—no—dear brother—it would be folly to try it, and, moreover, you cannot do it any way."
"Why so?" persisted Cæsar, who was thoroughly in earnest. "I'm sure I can do it. Just remember that Nalla's life is in danger. If nothing is done for him soon he will surely die."
Half-convinced, Nadine looked out upon the white wilderness, as bare, as silent, as trackless as the ocean. North, south, east, and west not a sign of human habitation could be discerned. The three young occupants of the shabby old van might have been the only people in the world. Turning sadly to Cæsar, she said with a sigh that was more like a sob: