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I reckon I'm gettin' some cranky what of losin' them dawgs." Not one day, but three days later, the two men, after being snowed in on the summit by a spring blizzard, staggered up to a cabin that stood in a fat bottom beside the roaring Little Peco. Coming in from the bright sunshine to the dark cabin, Linday observed little of its occupants. He was no more than aware of two men and a woman.
They's a man up the Little Peco that's had a ruction with a panther, an' the way he's clawed is something scand'lous." "How far up?" Doctor Linday demanded. "A matter of a hundred miles." "How long since?" "I've ben three days comin' down." "Bad?" "Shoulder dislocated. Some ribs broke for sure. Right arm broke. An' clawed clean to the bone most all over but the face.
But the ice grew more uneasy under them, breaking loose from the shore-line and rising steadily inch by inch. In places where it still held to the shore, the water overran and they waded and slushed across. The Little Peco growled and muttered. Cracks and fissures were forming everywhere as they battled on for the miles that each one of which meant ten along the tops.
"And so our poor captain would have been a marquis," he exclaimed to himself, "the Marquis de Medea, and owner of those magnificent estates. Well, truly he had something to live for, and yet he was cut off while I who have not a peco beyond my pay, and little enough of that, have been allowed to remain in existence.
From every side, faintly heard and near, under the voice of the spring wind, came the trickling of hidden waters. The Little Peco, strengthened by the multitudinous streamlets, rose against the manacles of winter, riving the ice with crashings and snappings. Daw touched Linday on the shoulder; touched him again; shook, and shook violently. "Doc," he murmured admiringly. "You can sure go some."
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