he was afraid of the panic. But the thought asserted itself, and
persisted, until it produced a vision of his body totally frozen. This
was too much, and he made another wild run along the trail. Once he
slowed down to a walk, but the thought of the freezing extending itself
made him run again.

And all the time the dog ran with him, at his heels. When he fell down a
second time, it curled its tail over its forefeet and sat in front of him
facing him curiously eager and intent. The warmth and security of the
animal angered him, and he cursed it till it flattened down its ears
appeasingly. This time the shivering came more quickly upon the man. He
was losing in his battle with the frost. It was creeping into his body
from all sides. The thought of it drove him on, but he ran no more than
a hundred feet, when he staggered and pitched headlong. It was his last
panic. When he had recovered his breath and control, he sat up and
entertained in his mind the conception of meeting death with dignity.
However, the conception did not come to him in such terms. His idea of
it was that he had been making a fool of himself, running around like a
chicken with its head cut off--such was the simile that occurred to him.
Well, he was bound to freeze anyway, and he might as well take it
decently. With this new-found peace of mind came the first glimmerings
of drowsiness. A good idea, he thought, to sleep off to death. It was
like taking an anaesthetic. Freezing was not so bad as people thought.
There were lots worse ways to die.

He pictured the boys finding his body next day. Suddenly he found
himself with them, coming along the trail and looking for himself. And,
still with them, he came around a turn in the trail and found himself
lying in the snow. He did not belong with himself any more, for even
then he was out of himself, standing with the boys and looking at himself