He hurriedly gathered some dry wood, heaped the black stuff upon it, lighted it, and sat down to wait the issue. Wild hopes were throbbing at his heart. He knew enough of the value of coal to realize the importance of the discovery. If it should prove to be coal, what a splendid thing it would be for Jack and for him! How much they would be able to do for Mrs. French and for his sister Irma! Amid his dreams a new face mingled, a face with saucy brown eyes, but on that face he refused to allow himself the rapture of looking. He dared not, at least not yet. Keenly he watched the fire. Was it taking hold of the black lumps? The flames were dying down. The wood had nearly burned itself out. The black lumps were charred and dead, and with their dying died his hopes.
He glanced out upon the ravine. Large soft flakes of snow were falling lazily through the trees.
"I'll get my blankets and grub under cover, and get some more wood for the night. It's going to be cold."
He heaped the remains of the wood he had gathered upon the fire, and with great difficulty, for his foot was growing more and more painful with every move, he set about gathering wood, of which there was abundance near at hand, and making himself snug for the night. He brought up a pail of water from the Creek, and tethered his broncho where there was a bunch of grass at the bottom of the ravine. Before he had finished these operations the ground was white with snow, and the wind was beginning to sigh ominously through the trees.
"Going to be a blizzard, sure," he said. "But let her blow. We're all right in here. Hello! where are those dogs? After the wolves, I'll be bound. They'll come back when they're ready."
With every moment the snow came down more thickly, and the wind grew toward a gale.
"If it's going to be a storm, I'd better lay in some more wood."
At the cost of great pain and labour, he dragged within reach of the cave a number of dead trees. He was disgusted to find his stock of provisions rather low.
"I wish I'd eaten less," he grumbled. "If I'm in for a three days' storm, and it looks like that, my grub will run out. I'll have a cup of tea to-night and save the grub for to-morrow."
As he was busy with these preparations, a sudden darkness fell on the valley. A strange sound like a muffled roaring came up the ravine. In a single minute everything was blotted out before him.
There hung down before his eyes a white, whirling, blinding, choking mass of driving snow.
"By Jove! that's a corker of a blizzard, sure enough! I'll draw my fire further in."
He seized his shovel and began to scrape the embers of his fire together. With a shout he dropped his shovel, fell on his knees, and gazed into the fire. Under the heap of burning wood there was a mass of glowing coal.
"Coal!" he shouted, rushing to the front of the cave. "Coal!
Coal! Oh, Jack! Dear old Jack! It's coal!"
Trembling between fear and hope, he broke in pieces the glowing lumps, rushed back to the seam, gathered more of the black stuff, and heaped it around the fire. Soon his doubts were all at rest.
The black lumps were soon on fire and blazed up with a blue flame.
But for his foot, he would have mounted Jacob and ridden straight off for the ranch through all the storm.
"Let her snow!" he cried, gazing into the whirling mist before his eyes. "I've got the stuff that beats blizzards!"
He turned to his tea making, now pausing to examine the great black seam, and again going to the cave entrance to whistle for his dogs.
As he stood listening to the soft whishing roar of the storm, he thought he heard the deep bay of Queen's voice. Holding his breath, he listened again. In the pause of the storm he heard, and distinctly this time, that deep musical note.
"They're digging out a wolf," he said. "They'll get tired and come back soon."
He drank his tea, struggled down the steep slope, the descent made more difficult by the covering of soft snow upon it, and drew another pail of water for evening use. Still the dogs did not appear. He went to the cave's mouth again, and whistled loud and long. This time quite distinctly he caught Queen's long, deep bay, and following that, a call as of a human voice.
"What?" he said, "some one out in that storm?"
He dropped upon his knees, put his hands up to his ears, and listened intently again. Once more, in a lull of the gale, he heard a long, clear call.
"Heavens above!" he cried, "a woman's voice! And I can't make a hundred yards with this foot of mine."
He knew enough of blizzards to realize the extreme danger to any one caught in those blinding, whirling snow clouds.
"I can't stay here, and I can't make it with this foot, but--yes--By Jove! Jacob can, though."
He seized his saddle and struggled out into the storm. Three paces from the door he fell headlong into a soft drift, wrenching his foot anew. Choking, blinded, and almost fainting with the pain, he got to his feet once more and fought his way down the slope to where he knew his horse must be.
"Jacob!" he called, "where are you?"
The faithful broncho answered with a glad whinny.
"All right, old boy, I'll get you."
In a few minutes he was on the broncho's back and off down the valley, feeling his way carefully among the trees and over stones and logs. As he went on, he caught now and then Queen's ringing bugle-note, and as often as he caught it he answered with a loud "Halloo!" It was with the utmost difficulty that he could keep Jacob's head toward the storm. Yard by yard he pressed his way against the gale, holding his direction by means of the flowing stream. Nearer and nearer sounded the cry of the hound, till in answer to his shouting he heard a voice call loud and clear. The valley grew wider, the timber more open, and his progress became more rapid. Soon, through the drifting mass, he caught sight of two white moving figures. The dogs bounded toward him.
"Hello there!" he called. "Here you are; come this way."
He urged forward his horse till he was nearly upon them.
"Oh, Kalman! Kalman! I knew it was you!"
In an instant he was off his horse and at her side.
"You! You!" he shouted aloud above the howling gale. "Marjorie!
