“This wuz Dick Snyder’s home an’ place, colonel,” said Reed.  “On account uv the gorillers he found it convenient to light out with his folks three or four days ago, but he’s come back hisself, an’ he’s here to he’p welcome you.  Thar’s room in the house, an’ the stable, which you can’t see ‘cause uv the trees, fur all the officers, an’ they’re buildin’ lean-tos here to protect the soldiers an’ the hosses.  A lot uv the fellers hev brought forage down on thar own hosses fur yourn.”

“Mr. Reed,” said the colonel, gratefully, “you and your men are true friends.  But there’s no danger of an ambush here?”

“Nary a chance, colonel.  We’ve got watchers on the mountings, men that hev lived here all thar lives, an’ them gorillers hev about ez much chance to steal up on us ez the snowflakes hev to live in the fires thar.”

“That being so, we’ll all alight and prepare for the night.”

When Dick sprang from his horse he staggered at first, not realizing how much the cold had affected him, but a little vigorous flexing of the muscles restored the circulation, and, when an orderly had taken their mounts, his comrades and he went to one of the fires, where they spread out their hands and basked in the glow.

They had brought food on extra horses, and expert cooks were at work at once.  Colonel Winchester knew that if his men had plenty to eat and good shelter they would be better fitted for the fierce work before them, and he spared nothing.  Bacon and ham were soon frying on the coals and the pots of coffee were bubbling.

The horses were put behind the high trees which formed a kind of windrow, and there they ate their forage, and raised their heads now and then to neigh in content.  Around the fires the hardy youths were jesting with one another, and were dragging up logs, on which they could sit before the fires, while they ate their food and drank their coffee.  Far over their heads the wind was screaming among the ridges, but they did not heed it nor did they pay any attention to the flakes falling around them.  The sheltered cove caused such a rebound after the long cold ride that they were boys again, although veterans of a hundred battles large and small.

Dick shared the exaltation of the rest, and had words of praise for the mountaineer who had guided them to so sheltered a haven.  He had no doubt that his famous ancestor, Paul Cotter, and the great Henry Ware had often found refuge in such cosy nooks as this, and it pleased him to think that he was following in their steps.  But he was surrounded by comrades and the great fires shed warmth and light throughout the whole basin.

“It’s a good log house,” said Warner, who had been investigating, “and as it’s two stories, with two rooms on each floor, a lot of us can sleep there.  The stable and the corn crib will hold many more, but, as for me, I think I’ll sleep against one of these lean-tos the mountaineers are throwing up.  With that behind me, a big fire before me, two heavy blankets around me, and dead leaves under me, I ought to fare well.  It will at least have better air than those sod houses in which some of the best families of Nebraska live, Frank Pennington.”