I have never seen such a fiendish face in all my wanderings! The lower part was covered with a thick jet-black beard and moustache, but the face, taken altogether, was that of a murderer--the most horrible, wolfish-looking visage I have ever gazed on. Like a cornered wolf, even as he slowly revived he struggled and snapped to break the cords that bound him, cursing savagely in his semi-drunken frenzy.
Many a man would have shot him out of hand with his own weapon; but I could not bring myself to that. I had left an indelible mark on him, however, that he would carry with him to the grave, and should we ever meet again there could be no disguising those awful eyes and his enormous proportions. But, unless I killed or disabled him, it was obviously unsafe to remain in the cabin. The storm had now ceased, so taking the villain’s revolver, and leaving him struggling to unfasten his bonds, I set out to try to find my way to the Fort, hoping against hope that I should soon sight some familiar landmark.
How long I blundered over the snow before I lost consciousness I do not know, but I remember it flashed upon me once that this was the dawn of Christmas Eve! Then I felt myself getting drowsier and drowsier.
When I recovered my senses it had to be explained to me how I came to be in bed back at my old quarters at Fort Hayes, minus two toes, which I had bequeathed to “Jack Frost” during my stroll over the snow-clad prairies.
A merciful Providence and three friendly Utes had found me and brought me in. If it had not been for Black Cloud, one of the three Indians, and a pretty big chief in his way, this story would never have been told. He was the means of saving my life, and I thankfully presented him with the big revolver I had taken from the rascal at the hut.
Guided by Black Cloud, some of the boys and scouts a few days later located the spot where the Indians had found me unconscious, slowly freezing to death. From there they hunted in all directions, and at last found the two-storeyed hut--empty.
It was miles from the way I ought to have taken when I left the trapper’s shack, which showed that trying to guide my poor old horse was the worst thing I could have done.
Later, when the weather broke and I was able to get about, I got two of the boys to ride over to the hut with me.