The man sat up in the snow for a moment and struggled forcalmness. Then he pulled on his mittens， by means of his teeth，and got upon his feet. He glanced down at first in order toassure himself that he was really standing up， for the absenceof sensation in his feet left him unrelated to the earth. His erectposition in itself started to drive the webs of suspicion from thedog’s mind； and when he spoke peremptorily， with the soundof whip-lashes in his voice， the dog rendered its customaryallegiance and came to him. As it came within reachingdistance， the man lost his control. His arms flashed out to thedog， and he experienced genuine surprise when he discoveredthat his hands could not clutch， that there was neither bendnor feeling in the lingers. He had forgotten for the momentthat they were frozen and that they were freezing more andmore. All this happened quickly， and before the animal couldget away， he encircled its body with his arms. He sat down inthe snow， and in this fashion held the dog， while it snarled andwhined and struggled.
But it was all he could do， hold its body encircled in his armsand sit there. He realized that he could not kill the dog. Therewas no way to do it. With his helpless hands he could neitherdraw nor hold his sheath-knife nor throttle the animal. Hereleased it， and it plunged wildly away， with tail between itslegs， and still snarling. It halted forty feet away and surveyedhim curiously， with ears sharply pricked forward. The manlooked down at his hands in order to locate them， and foundthem hanging on the ends of his arms. It struck him as curiousthat one should have to use his eyes in order to find out wherehis hands were. He began threshing his arms back and forth，beating the mittened hands against his sides. He did this forfive minutes， violently， and his heart pumped enough blood upto the surface to put a stop to his shivering. But no sensationwas aroused in the hands. He had an impression that they hunglike weights on the ends of his arms， but when he tried to runthe impression down， he could not find it.
A certain fear of death， dull and oppressive， came to him.
This fear quickly became poignant as he realized that it wasno longer a mere matter of freezing his fingers and toes， or oflosing his hands and feet， but that it was a matter of life anddeath with the chances against him. This threw him into apanic， and he turned and ran up the creek-bed along the old，dim trail. The dog joined in behind and kept up with him. Heran blindly， without intention， in fear such as he had neverknown in his life. Slowly， as he ploughed and flounderedthrough the snow， he began to see things again—the banks ofthe creek， the old timber-jams， the leafless aspens， and the sky.
The running made him feel better. He did not shiver. Maybe， ifhe ran on， his feet would thaw out； and， anyway， if he ran farenough， he would reach camp and the boys. Without doubt hewould lose some fingers and toes and some of his face； but theboys would take care of him， and save the rest of him whenhe got there. And at the same time there was another thoughtin his mind that said he would never get to the camp and theboys； that it was too many miles away， that the freezing had toogreat a start on him， and that he would soon be stiff and dead.
This thought he kept in the background and refused to consider.
Sometimes it pushed itself forward and demanded to be heard，but he thrust it back and strove to think of other things.
It struck him as curious that he could run at all on feet sofrozen that he could not feel them when they struck the earthand took the weight of his body. He seemed to himself to skimalong above the surface and to have no connection with theearth. Somewhere he had once seen a winged Mercury， and hewondered if Mercury felt as he felt when skimming over theearth.
