We were now left without a team, and two hundred miles from home. But
wealth in the shape of pelts was accumulating about us, and we
determined to stick it out till spring. Then one of us could go to the
nearest settlement for a teammate for our remaining steer, while the
other stayed in charge of the camp.

This plan had to be carried out far sooner than we expected. A few days
later we espied a herd of elk, which meant plentiful and excellent
meat. We at once started in pursuit. Creeping stealthily along toward
them, keeping out of sight, and awaiting an opportunity to get a good
shot, I slipped on a stone in the creek bed.

"Snap!" went something and looking down I saw my foot hanging useless.
I had broken my leg just above the ankle and my present career as a
fur-trapper had ended.

I was very miserable when Harrington came up. I urged him to shoot me
as he had the ox, but he laughingly replied that that would hardly do.

"I'll bring you out all right!" he said. "I owe you a life anyway for
saving me from that bear. I learned a little something about surgery
when I was in Illinois, and I guess I can fix you up."

He got me back to camp after a long and painful hour and with a
wagon-bow, which he made into a splint, set the fracture. But our
enterprise was at an end. Help would have to be found now, and before
spring. One man and a cripple could never get through the winter.

It was determined that Harrington must go for this needful assistance