doctor. "Thank fortune, we're above the storm. We ought to be near the top."
But peer as they might, they could not see the top. The timber and the rocks extended on and on and on.
"A pair o' stockin's would feel mighty good, on this kind of a trip," muttered John Brown. "'Tain't what you'd call a barefoot trail, in winter."
They rested a minute, the men leaning upon their muskets. Then
"Come, boys," the lieutenant urged impatiently. "One more stint and we'll make it. Forget your feet. Think only of the top."
They climbed, breathing short and fast while they clambered and slipped. At noon they still had not reached the top; several times the top seemed at hand, but when they glimpsed it, shining white, it always was across another ridge, and higher.
Stub's ears rang, his heart drummed, his feet weighed like lead. The two soldiers staggered and stumbled. The snowstorm below appeared far. But the lieutenant and the doctor knew no quitting.
"We'll not reach it, this day," gasped John Brown. "'Tis the same old story. Marchin', and marchin', and never gettin' there."
"Anyhow, we'll reach it to-morrow," Terry replied.
