Blake began to feel a horror of the lonely wood and a longing to escape into the open, though he would be no safer there.

But to give way to this weakness would be dangerous; and, pulling himself together, he went to work more calmly.
It was difficult to reach the branches of the spruce he chose, and when he had placed the first load of meat in safety he was tempted to flight.

Indeed, for some moments he stood irresolute, struggling to hold his fears in subjection; and then he went back for another supply.
He climbed the tree three times before he was satisfied that he had stored enough, and afterward he gathered up as much of the flesh as he could conveniently carry.

It would soon freeze, but not before it had left a scent that any wolf which might happen to be near could follow.
He left the woods with a steady stride, refraining from attempting a faster pace than he could keep up, but when he had gone a mile he felt distressed.

His load, which included the rifle, was heavy, and he had been exerting himself since early morning.