“It was probably that broken snow-shoe,” Bob said, adding: “Anyhow he’s alive and we must get him into bed as soon as we can.”
It was the work of but a minute to strip off the man’s outer clothes and wrapping him in the blankets now thoroughly warmed, they lifted him to a large couch, which they pulled as close to the fire as they could.
“Now let’s see if we can get some of that coffee into him,” Bob said.
It was slow work but by dint of much perseverance they managed to get a few spoonsful of the liquid down his throat.
“Better see if his hands or feet are frozen,” Jack suggested, as he pulled off one of his moccasins. “I guess they’re all right,” he announced a moment later, as he dropped the other one to the floor. “How about his hands?”
“They’re all right. I think it’s more exhaustion than cold,” Bob declared. “I don’t believe you could freeze one of those Kanucks anyway,” he added as he raised the man’s head again and told Jack to see if he could get some more of the hot coffee down him. “His heart is getting stronger,” he announced a moment later, “and he seems to be breathing quite easily now. He’ll be all right before long, see if he isn’t.” And his prediction was correct, for in a few minutes the man gave vent to a long moan and slowly opened his eyes.
“Drink this,” Bob ordered, as he raised his head and held the cup to his lips.
“I go Heaven, oui?” the man whispered faintly, as Bob laid his head back after he had swallowed nearly a cupful of coffee.
“Not exactly,” Bob laughed. “You’re still on the earth but you had a pretty narrow call all right. Now you’d better not talk any just now. Just rest and we’ll get you something to eat.”
In a few minutes Bob had ready a steaming bowl of oatmeal gruel which the man ate greedily and strength seemed to almost rush back into his body as the hot food warmed his stomach.