TheextraordinarysuddennessoftheseatmosphericchangesonlyincreasedthesenseofphantasmicunrealitywithwhichCameronhadbeenstrugglingduringthepastthirty-sixhours。Astheafternoonworeontheairbecamesensiblywarmer。Themoistureroseinsteamingcloudsfromthemountainsides，thesnowraneverywhereingurglingrivulets，therivuletsbecamestreams，thestreamsrivers，andthemountaintorrentswhichtheyhadeasilyfordedearlierinthedaythreatenedtosweepthemaway。
Thetrader’sspiritsappearedtorisewiththetemperature。Hewasinhighglee。Itwasasifhehadescapedsomeimminentperil。”Wewillmakeitallright！”heshoutedtoLittleThunderastheypausedforafewmomentsinagrassyglade。”CanwemaketheForksbeforedark？”
LittleThunder’sgruntmightmeananything，buttothetraderitexpresseddoubt。”Onthen！”heshouted。”Wemustmakethesebrutesgetamoveon。
They’llfeedwhenwecamp。”
Sosayinghehurledhishorseuponthestragglingbunchofponiesthatwereeagerlysnatchingmouthfulsofgrassfromwhichthechinookhadalreadymeltedthesnow。Mercilesslyandsavagelythetrader，withwhipandvoiceandchargingstallion，hustledthewretchedanimalsintothetrailoncemore。Andthroughthelongafternoon，withunceasingandbrutalferocity，hebelaboredthefaltering，stumbling，half-starvedcreatures，tillfromsheerexhaustiontheywereliketofalluponthetrail。Itwasawearybusinessanddisgusting，butthedemonspiritofNighthawkseemedtohavepassedintohismaster，andwithaninsistencethatknewnomercytogethertheybatteredthatwretchedbunchupanddownthelongslopestillatlengththemercifulnightfelluponthestraggling，stumblingcavalcadeandmadearapidpaceimpossible。