Even there Gray Wolf still sniffed the horror of the plague, and her muscles twitched and shivered as she lay close at Kazan's side.
That night the big white moon had around its edge a crimson rim.

It meant cold--intense cold.

Always the plague came in the days of greatest cold--the lower the temperature the more terrible its havoc.

It grew steadily colder that night, and the increased chill penetrated to the heart of the windfall, and drew Kazan and Gray Wolf closer together.
With dawn, which came at about eight o'clock, Kazan and his blind mate sallied forth into the day.

It was fifty degrees below zero.