He was anxious for a fire, and its vital heat, but he was too proud to speak.

He would endure without complaint as much as his comrades, and he knew that Tayoga, like himself, would wait for the older man to speak.
But he could not keep, meanwhile, from thinking of the French and Indians beside their vast heaps of glowing coals, fed and warmed to their hearts' content, while the three lay in the dark and bitter cold of the wilderness.

An hour dragged by, then two, then three, but the storm showed no sign of abating.

The sinister screaming of the wind did not cease and the snow accumulated upon their bodies.

At last Willet said: "We must do it." "We have no other choice," said Tayoga.