He went to the cave's mouth again, and whistled loud and long.

This time quite distinctly he caught Queen's long, deep bay, and following that, a call as of a human voice.
"What ?" he said, "some one out in that storm ?" He dropped upon his knees, put his hands up to his ears, and listened intently again.

Once more, in a lull of the gale, he heard a long, clear call.
"Heavens above!" he cried, "a woman's voice! And I can't make a hundred yards with this foot of mine." He knew enough of blizzards to realize the extreme danger to any one caught in those blinding, whirling snow clouds.
"I can't stay here, and I can't make it with this foot, but--yes--By Jove! Jacob can, though." He seized his saddle and struggled out into the storm.

Three paces from the door he fell headlong into a soft drift, wrenching his foot anew.

Choking, blinded, and almost fainting with the pain, he got to his feet once more and fought his way down the slope to where he knew his horse must be.
"Jacob!" he called, "where are you ?" The faithful broncho answered with a glad whinny.
"All right, old boy, I'll get you." In a few minutes he was on the broncho's back and off down the valley, feeling his way carefully among the trees and over stones and logs.