the snow, I pulled him back upon his feet and forced him to move on.

Presently I felt myself overtaken by the same drowsiness that had
enthralled Peoria Red, and a queer numbness which as it crept upwards
from my feet seemed to kill my ambition to battle for life against the
"Death of the Arctic."

Just as the last gleam of the blood-red sky which reflected the setting
sun was swallowed up in the swirling masses of ice motes, Peoria Red
sank beside the track, and although I tried everything to cause him to
realize his danger if he failed to follow me, he keeled helplessly over
into the snow, while a glassy stare in his half-shut eyes told me that
he was doomed.

Then my own danger came home to me. Self-preservation is the first law
of nature, and I promptly realized that to save my own life I must reach
the section house, which I felt assured could not be many miles ahead of
me, and where I would not only find shelter for myself, but perhaps
obtain assistance to rescue my pal before it would be too late.

After taking one more farewell look at Peoria Red I made a step towards
the track, but fell heavily to the ground. During the minutes I had
lingered to save the life of my partner my feet seemed to have been
turned into solid lead. I laughed aloud. As I was yet in full possession
of my mental faculties this seemed to me a cruel joke, and I tried to
arise so I could by stamping revive the circulation of the blood, but
every time I arose half way I tumbled helplessly back into the snow. The
desire to live increased, and when I felt the numbness creep from my
limbs into my body, I crawled alongside Peoria Red and snuggled closely
against him, hoping that our mutual body warmth would stave off the