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Gradually； as the flame grew stronger； he increased the size of the twigs
with which he fed it。 He squatted in the snow； pulling the twigs out from
their entanglement in the brush and feeding directly to the flame。 He
knew there must be no failure。 When it is seventy… five below zero； a
man must not fail in his first attempt to build a firethat is； if his feet are
wet。 If his feet are dry； and he fails； he can run along the trail for half a
mile and restore his circulation。 But the circulation of wet and freezing
feet cannot be restored by running when it is seventy…five below。 No
matter how fast he runs； the wet feet will freeze the harder。
All this the man knew。 The old…timer on Sulphur Creek had told him
about it the previous fall； and now he was appreciating the advice。 Already
all sensation had gone out of his feet。 To build the fire he had been
forced to remove his mittens； and the fingers had quickly gone numb。
His pace of four miles an hour had kept his heart pumping blood to the
surface of his body and to all the extremities。 But the instant he stopped；
the action of the pump eased down。 The cold of space smote the
unprotected tip of the planet； and he； being on that unprotected tip；
received the full force of the blow。 The blood of his body recoiled before
it。 The blood was alive； like the dog； and like the dog it wanted to hide
away and cover itself up from the fearful cold。 So long as he walked four
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miles an hour； he pumped that blood； willy…nilly； to the surface； but now it
ebbed away and sank down into the recesses of his body。 The extremities
were the first to feel its absence。 His wet feet froze the faster； and his
exposed fingers numbed the faster； though they had not yet begun to
freeze。 Nose and cheeks were already freezing； while the skin of all his
body chilled as it lost its blood。
But he was safe。 Toes and nose and cheeks would be only touched
by the frost； for the fire was beginning to burn with strength。 He was
feeding it with twigs the size of his finger。 In another minute he would
be able to feed it with branches the size of his wrist； and then he could
remove his wet foot…gear； and； while it dried； he could keep his naked feet
warm by the fire； rubbing them at first； of course； with snow。 The fire
was a success。 He was safe。 He remembered the advice of the old…
timer on Sulphur Creek； and smiled。 The old…timer had been very serious
in laying down the law that no man must travel alone in the Klondike after
fifty below。 Well； here he was； he had had the accident； he was alone；
and he had saved himself。 Those old…timers were rather womanish； some
of them； he thought。 All a man had to do was to keep his head； and he
was all right。 Any man who was a man could travel alone。 But it was
surprising； the rapidity with which his cheeks and nose were freezing。
And he had not thought his fingers could go lifeless in so short a time。
Lifeless they were； for he could scarcely make them move together to grip
a twig； and they seemed remote from his body and from him。 When he
touched a twig； he had to look and see whether or not he had hold of it。
The wires were pretty well down between him and his finger…ends。
All of which counted for little。 There was the fire； snapping and
crackling and promising life with every dancing flame。 He started to
untie his moccasins。 They were coated with ice； the thick German socks
were like sheaths of iron half…way to the knees； and the mocassin strings
were like rods of steel all twisted and knotted as by some conflagration。
For a moment he tugged with his numbed fingers； then； realizing the folly
of it； he drew his sheath…knife。
But before he could cut the strings； it happened。 It was his own fault
or； rather； his mistake。 He should not have built the fire under the spruce
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tree。 He should have built it in the open。 But it had been easier to pull
the twigs from the brush and drop them directly on the fire。 Now the tree
under which he had done this carried a weight of snow on its boughs。 No
wind had blown for weeks； and each bough was fully freighted。 Each
time he had pulled a twig he had communicated a slight agitation to the
treean imperceptible agitation； so far as he was concerned； but an
agitation sufficient to bring about the disaster。 High up in the tree one
bough capsized its load of snow。 This fell on the boughs beneath；
capsizing them。 This process continued； spreading out and involving the
whole tree。 It grew like an avalanche； and it descended without warning
upon the man and the fire； and the fire was blotted out！ Where it had
burned was a mantle of fresh and disordered snow。
The man was shocked。 It was as though he had just heard his own
sentence of death。 For a moment he sat and stared at the spot where the
fire had been。 Then he grew very calm。 Perhaps the old…timer on
Sulphur Creek was right。 If he had only had a trail…mate he would have
been in no danger now。 The trail…mate could have built the fire。 Well； it
was up to him to build the fire over again； and this second time there must
be no failure。 Even if he succeeded； he would most likely lose some toes。
His feet must be badly frozen by now； and there would be some time
before the second fire was ready。
Such were his thoughts； but he did not sit and think them。 He was
busy all the time they were passing through his mind； he made a new
foundation for a fire； this time in the open； where no treacherous tree
could blot it out。 Next； he gathered dry grasses and tiny twigs from the
high…water flotsam。 He could not bring his fingers together to pull them
out； but he was able to gather them by the handful。 In this way he got
many rotten twigs and bits of green moss that were undesirable； but it was
the best he could do。 He worked methodically； even collecting an armful
of the larger branches to be used later when the fire gathered strength。
And all the while the dog sat and watched him； a certain yearning
wistfulness in its eyes； for it looked upon him as the fire…provider； and the
fire was slow in coming。
When all was ready； the man reached in his pocket for a second piece
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of birch…bark。 He knew the bark was there； and； though he could not feel
it with his fingers； he could hear its crisp rustling as he fumbled for it。
Try as he would； he could not clutch hold of it。 And all the time； in his
consciousness； was the knowledge that each instant his feet were freezing。
This thought tended to put him in a panic； but he fought against it and kept
calm。 He pulled on his mittens with his teeth； and threshed his arms back
and forth； beating his hands with all his might against his sides。 He did
this sitting down； and he stood up to do it； and all the while the dog sat in
the snow； its wolf…brush of a tail curled around warmly over its forefeet；
its sharp wolf…ears pricked forward intently as it watched the man。 And
the man as he beat and threshed with his arms and hands； felt a great surge
of envy as he regarded the creature that was warm and secure in its natural
covering。
After a time he was aware of the first far…away signals of sensation in
his beaten fingers。 The faint tingling grew stronger till it evolved into a
stinging ache that was excruciating； but which the man hailed with
satisfaction。 He stripped the mitten from his right hand