Fighting his way through the deep snow which made every step a task of difficulty Cæsar plodded due west, making frequent halts to get his breath, and to glance back at the van, which stood out so prominently, the only dark spot in that wilderness of white.
He had not gone very far before he found that Vigilant was following him, although he had not invited him to do so.
"You good dog!" he cried, well pleased at having such a companion, and stooping down to pat him vigorously. "You're not afraid to accompany your master instead of staying snugly in the van. I'm so glad to have you with me."
When Cæsar spoke thus he little guessed what a fortunate thing the dog's devotion was to prove.
Vigilant responded with a volley of barks that confirmed his intention to stick to his master, but had also a plaintive tone as though he would imply that, for himself, he would have deemed it much wiser to remain in the shelter of the van.
When they had been walking for about two hours Vigilant lay down and held up his paws in a significant way, at the same time barking piteously.
"Why, what is the matter, Vigilant?" asked Cæsar with concern. "Are your feet hurting you?"
As the animal continued his appeals Cæsar picked him up, and examined his paws. The poor little things were extremely sore from contact with the hard frozen snow and not fit to be walked upon.
"Heigh-ho!" exclaimed Cæsar. "There's nothing for it but to carry you," and gathering the dog in his arms he renewed his toilsome tramp thus burdened.
But he was suffering in no small measure himself. The cruel cold attacked his face, his hands and his feet mercilessly, and to make matters worse, his boots, which were in sore need of repairs, failed to keep out the snow with which they were now filled. Every step was pain. But he struggled on heroically, carrying the heavy dog.