“Where could he have gone? The falling snow had obliterated his trail. It was small comfort that he had taken the rifle. As the night tripped on, I began to lose hope, and by the time the pale dawn light was kissing the horizon I was frantic. I called Jehu’s name, shouting it to the very trees as if they might be kind enough to let me know which direction to take. My footsteps left a clear trail, so I knew I would be able to find my way back to the cave. “Je-hu!” I called. “Je-hu!” Sometimes it ...seemed as if I heard a voice answer, echoing back to me on the cold, chill air. In the end it was not my cries that found Jehu, but my foot. I tripped right over him. He was buried in a thick drift of snow, and only his hat was visible. I crawled next to him, digging him out as quickly as I could. “Jane,” he croaked hoarsely, his face pale. “Are you hurt?” “My leg.” There was a long, ragged gash cut through the pant. I felt my way along the leg as Papa had taught me, but I could find no break.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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