“I’m blinded,” he murmured.  “Put out the light and throw a blanket over my head.  The sifting snow cut my eyes like sand.  I’ll come around in a little while.”

Daybreak revealed nothing worse from the driving snow than inflamed eyes and roughened cheeks, when another attempt was made to succor the horses.  Both boys joined in the hazard, lashing themselves together with a long rope, and reached the stable in safety.  On returning, Dell was thrown several times by the buffeting wind, but recovered his feet, and, following the rope, the dug-out was safely reached.

“That’s what happened to me in the darkness,” said Joel, once the shelter of the house was reached.  “I got whipped off my feet, lost my bearings, and every time I looked for the light, my eyes filled with snow.”

[Illustration:  Dell Wells]

There was no abatement of the blizzard by noon.  It was impossible to succor the cattle, but the boys were anxious to reach the corral, which was fully a mile from the shack.  Every foot of the creek was known, and by hugging the leeward bank some little protection would be afforded and the stream would lead to the cattle.  Near the middle of the afternoon, there was a noticeable abatement in the swirling snow, when the horses were blanketed to the limit and an effort made to reach the corral.  By riding bareback it was believed any drifts could be forced, at least allowing a freedom to the mounts returning, in case the boys lost their course.

The blizzard blew directly from the north, and crossing the creek on a direct angle, Joel led the way, forcing drifts or dismounting and trampling them out until a pathway was made.  Several times they were able to make a short dash between known points, and by hugging the sheltering bank of the creek, safely reached the corral.  The cattle were slowly milling about, not from any excitement, the exercise being merely voluntary and affording warmth.  The boys fell to opening up the water, the cattle crowding around each opening and drinking to their contentment.  An immense comb of snow hung in a semicircle around the bend, in places thirty feet high and perpendicular, while in others it concaved away into recesses and vaults as fantastic as frosting on a window.  It was formed from the early, softer snow, frozen into place, while the present shifting frost poured over the comb into the sheltered cove, misty as bride’s veiling, and softening the grotesque background to a tint equaled only in the fluffy whiteness of swan’s-down.

The corral met every requirement.  Its protecting banks sheltered the herd from the raging blizzard; the season had inured the cattle, given them shaggy coats to withstand the cold, and only food was lacking in the present trial.  After rendering every assistance possible, the boys remained at the corral, hoping the sun would burst forth at evening, only to meet disappointment, when their horses were given free rein and carried them home in a short, sure dash.