What would my uncle say?
The query brought tears to my eyes.
I unhitched and led my horses up into the cover of the pines.

How grateful it seemed, for the wind was slack below but howling in the tree-tops! I knew that I was four miles from home and knew, not how I was to get there.

Chilled to the bone, I gathered some pitch pine and soon had a fire going with my flint and tinder.

I knew that I could mount one of the horses and lead the other and reach home probably.

But there was the grist.