The dog's dark, deep-set eyes roved watchfully toward the
crevice, alert for sign of any other marauder that might issue
forth. His own shaggy shoulder was hurting him, annoyingly, from
the wildcat's bite. But to this he gave no heed. Closer yet, he
pressed his warm, furry body to the ice-cold youngster; fending
off the elements as valorously as he had fended off the wildcat.
The warmth of the great body began to penetrate Cyril's numbed
senses. The child snuggled to the dog, gratefully. Lad's pink
tongue licked caressingly at the white face; and the collie
whimpered crooning sympathy to the little sufferer.
So, for a time the dog and the child lay there; Cyril's numb body
warming under the contact.
Then, at a swift intake of the windy air, Lad's whimper changed
to a thunder of wild barking. His nostrils had told him of the
search party's approach, a few hundred yards to the windward.
Their dispiritingly aimless hunt changing into a scrambling rush
in the direction whence came the faint-heard barks, the searchers
trooped toward the ledge.
"Here we are!" shrilled the child, as the Master's halloo sounded
directly above.
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