Everyone looked relieved.
Mr. Benson struck thd washout a little way above us. He was breathing hard, as if he'd been running. He started talking as soon as he was within hearing distance.
'It scared me when I first saw them,' he said. 'I didn't know what they were. They looked like white ghosts. I'd never seen anything like it.'
A hunter grabbed Mr. Benson by the shoulder, shaking him. 'Get ahold of yourself, man,' he said. 'What are you talking about?'
Mr. Benson took a deep breath to control himself, and started again in a much calmer voice. 'Those two hounds,' he said. 'I found them. They're frozen solid. They're nothing but white ice from the tips of their noses to the ends of their tails.'
Hearing Mr. Benson's words, I screamed and ran to my father. Everything started whirling around and around. I felt light as a feather. My knees buckled. I knew no more.
Regaining consciousness, I opened my eyes and could dimly see the blurry images of the men around me. A hand was shaking me. I could hear my father's voice but I couldn't understand his words. Little by little the blackness faded away. My throat was dry and I was terribly thirsty. I asked for some water.
Mr. Benson came over. He said, 'Son, I'm sorry, truly sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Your dogs are alive. I guess I was excited. I'm very sorry.'
I heard a deep voice say, 'That's a hell of a thing to do. Come running in here saying the dogs are frozen solid.'
Mr. Benson said, 'I didn't mean it to sound that way. I said I'm sorry. What more do you want me to do?'
The deep voice growled again. 'I still think it was a hell of a thing for a man to do.'
Mr. Kyle took over. 'Now let's not have any more of this,' he said. 'We have work to do. We've been standing here acting like a bunch of schoolkids. All this time that old man has been lying there suffering. A couple of you men cut two poles and make a stretcher to carry him.'
While the men were getting the poles, Papa heated the coonskins again and rewrapped Grandpa's foot.
With belts and long leather laces from their boots, the hunters made a stretcher. Very gently they put Grandpa on it.
Again Mr. Kyle took command. 'Part of us will start for camp with him,' he said. 'The others will go after the dogs.'
'Here, take this gun,' Papa said. 'I'll go with him.'
Looking at me, Mr. Kyle said, 'Come on, son. I want to see your hounds.'
Mr. Benson led the way. 'As soon as we get out of this cane,' he said, 'we may be able to hear them. They have the coon treed in a big black gum tree. You're going to see a sight. Now I mean a sight. They've walked a ring around that tree clear down through the ice and snow. You can see the bare ground.'
'Wonder why they did that?' someone asked.
'I don't know,' Mr. Benson replied, 'unless they ran in that circle to keep from freezing to death, or to keep the coon in the tree.'
I figured I knew why my dogs were covered with ice. The coon had probably crossed the river, maybe several times. Old Dan and Little Ann would have followed him. They had come out of the river with their coats dripping wet, and the freezing blast of the blizzard had done the rest.
Nearing the tree, we stopped and stared.
'Did you ever see anything like that?' Mr. Ben-son asked. 'When I first saw them, I thought they were white wolves.'
My dogs hadn't seen us when we came up. They were trotting round and round. Just as Mr. Benson had said, we could see the path they had worn down through the ice and snow till the bare black earth was visible. Like ghostly white shadows, around and around they trotted.
In a low voice, someone said, 'They know that if they stop they'll freeze to death.'
'It's unbelievable,' said Mr. Kyle. 'Come on. We must do something quick.'
