We
left the man with one eye there in the snow, and he died there in
the snow, for McKeon never went back for him. And who that man
was, and why he came to be there, I do not know. But I think he
was greatly paid by the man and the woman, like me, to do their
work for them.
"That day and that night we had nothing to eat, and all next day we
travelled fast, and we were weak with hunger. Then we came to the
Black Rock, which rose five hundred feet above the trail. It was
at the end of the day. Darkness was coming, and we could not find
the cabin of McKeon. We slept hungry, and in the morning looked
for the cabin. It was not there, which was a strange thing, for
everybody knew that McKeon lived in a cabin at Black Rock. We were
near to the coast, where the wind blows hard and there is much
snow. Everywhere there were small hills of snow where the wind had
piled it up. I have a thought, and I dig in one and another of the
hills of snow. Soon I find the walls of the cabin, and I dig down
to the door. I go inside. McKeon is dead. Maybe two or three
weeks he is dead.
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