The Norther continued to blow. He and
his horse were a huge moving shape of white. Now and then the snow,
coating too thickly upon his serape, fell in lumps to the ground, but it
was soon coated anew and as thick as ever. But whatever happened he
never let the San Antonio get out of his sight.
He was compelled to stop at last under a thick cluster of oaks, where he
was somewhat sheltered from the wind and snow. Here he dismounted again,
stamped his feet vigorously for warmth and also brushed the snow from
his faithful horse. Old Jack, as usual, rubbed his nose against the
boy's arm.
The horse was a source of great comfort and strength to Ned. He always
believed that he would have collapsed without him. As nearly as he could
guess the time it was about halfway between midnight and morning, and in
order to preserve his strength he forced himself to eat a little more.
A half hour's rest, and remounting he resumed his slow progress by the
river. The rest had been good for both his horse and himself, and the
blood felt warmer in his veins. He moved for some time among trees and
thickets that lined the banks, and after a while he recognized familiar
ground. He had been in some of these places in the course of the siege
of San Antonio, and the town could not be far away.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175