His theory of running until he reached camp and the boyshad one flaw in it： he lacked the endurance. Several times hestumbled， and finally he tottered， crumpled up， and fell. Whenhe tried to rise， he failed. He must sit and rest， he decided，and next time he would merely walk and keep on going. Ashe sat and regained his breath， he noted that he was feelingquite warm and comfortable. He was not shivering， and it evenseemed that a warm glow had come to his chest and trunk.
And yet， when he touched his nose or cheeks， there was nosensation. Running would not thaw them out. Nor would itthaw out his hands and feet. Then the thought came to him thatthe frozen portions of his body must be extending. He triedto keep this thought down， to forget it， to think of somethingelse； he was aware of the panicky feeling that it caused， andhe was afraid of the panic. But the thought asserted itself， andpersisted， until it produced a vision of his body totally frozen.
This was too much， and he made another wild run along thetrail. Once he slowed down to a walk， but the thought of thefreezing extending itself made him run again.
And all the time the dog ran with him， at his heels. Whenhe fell down a second time， it curled its tail over its forefeetand sat in front of him facing him curiously eager and intent.
The warmth and security of the animal angered him， and hecursed it till it flattened down its ears appeasingly. This timethe shivering came more quickly upon the man. He was losingin his battle with the frost. It was creeping into his body fromall sides. The thought of it drove him on， but he ran no morethan a hundred feet， when he staggered and pitched headlong.
It was his last panic. When he had recovered his breath andcontrol， he sat up and entertained in his mind the conceptionof meeting death with dignity. However， the conception didnot come to him in such terms. His idea of it was that he hadbeen making a fool of himself， running around like a chickenwith its head cut off—such was the simile that occurred tohim. Well， he was bound to freeze anyway， and he might aswell take it decently. With this new-found peace of mind camethe first glimmerings of drowsiness. A good idea， he thought，to sleep off to death. It was like taking an an？sthetic. Freezingwas not so bad as people thought. There were lots worse waysto die.
He pictured the boys finding his body next day. Suddenly hefound himself with them， coming along the trail and lookingfor himself. And， still with them， he came around a turn in thetrail and found himself lying in the snow. He did not belongwith himself any more， for even then he was out of himself，standing with the boys and looking at himself in the snow. Itcertainly was cold， was his thought. When he got back to theStates he could tell the folks what real cold was. He driftedon from this to a vision of the old-timer on Sulphur Creek.
He could see him quite clearly， warm and comfortable， andsmoking a pipe.
“You were right， old hoss； you were right，” the man mumbledto the old-timer of Sulphur Creek.
Then the man drowsed off into what seemed to him the mostcomfortable and satisfying sleep he had ever known. The dogsat facing him and waiting. The brief day drew to a close in along， slow twilight. There were no signs of a fire to be made，and， besides， never in the dog’s experience had it known a manto sit like that in the snow and make no fire. As the twilightdrew on， its eager yearning for the fire mastered it， and witha long lifting and shifting of forefeet， it whined softly， thenflattened its ears down in anticipation of being chidden bythe man. But the man remained silent. Later， the dog whinedloudly. And still later it crept close to the man and caught thescent of death. This made the animal bristle and back away. Alittle longer it delayed， howling under the stars that leaped anddanced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned andtrotted up the trail in the direction of the camp it knew， wherewere the other food-providers and fire-providers.
