could not see ten feet around; Hugh and Jake were unable to move farther; the lieutenant and the doctor were still out—perhaps lost, like themselves.
"'Tis no use, men. We'll make for the nearest timber and camp there," ordered Sergeant Meek.
That was another miserably cold, hungry day, and a worse night.
"How flesh and blood may be expected to stand more of this, I don't know," uttered John Brown.
"And it's not for you to ask," the sergeant sternly rebuked. "If you're so weak-hearted as to think them thoughts, keep 'em to yourself. Even the lad Stub—a mere boy that he is—speaks no such words. Shame on you—you a soldier!"
John Brown muttered, but said no more.
"Heaven help the cap'n an' the doctor, again," spoke Corporal Jerry, as they all huddled about their fire, and the wind howled and the snow hissed, and the drifts piled higher against their little bulwark of packs. "An' if they don't find us an' we don't find them, 'twill go hard with Sparks and Dougherty, too."
"If the storm clears, we'll march on in the morning," said Sergeant Meek. "We've had orders to meet 'em, on a piece yet, and that's our duty."
The morning dawned gray and white, but the storm had ceased. They shook off the snow, re-
