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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
108
They
kept
alive
for
three
wretched
days
on
that
Chicken,
and
when
it
was
finished
Thor
again
took
down
his
gun--it
seemed
a
much
heavier
gun
now.
He
crawled
to
the
barn,
but
he
was
so
weak
and
shaky
that
he
missed
several
times
before
he
brought
down
a
fowl.
Corney
had
taken
the
rifle
away
with
him
and
three
charges
of
gun
ammunition
were
all
that
now
remained.
Thor
was
surprised
to
see
how
few
Hens
there
were
now,
only
three
or
four.
There
used
to
be
over
a
dozen.
Three
days
later
he
made
another
raid.
He
saw
but
one
Hen
and
he
used
up
his
last
ammunition
to
get
that.
His
daily
routine
now
was
a
monotony
of
horror.
In
the
morning,
which
was
his
"well
time,"
he
prepared
a
little
food
for
the
household
and
got
ready
for
the
night
of
raging
fever
by
putting
a
bucket
of
water
on
a
block
at
the
head
of
each
bunk.
About
one
o'clock,
with
fearful
regularity,
the
chills
would
come
on,
with
trembling
from
head
to
foot
and
chattering
teeth,
and
cold,
cold,
within
and
without.
Nothing
seemed
to
give
any
warmth--fire
seemed
to
have
lost
its
power.
There
was
nothing
to
do
but
to
lie
and
shake
and
suffer
all
the
slow
torture
of
freezing
to
death
and
shaking
to
pieces.
For
six
hours
it
would
keep
up,
and
to
the
torture,
nausea
lent
its
horrid
aid
throughout;
then
about
seven
or
eight
o'clock
in
the
evening
a
change
would
come;
a
burning
fever
set
in;
no
ice
could
have
seemed
cool
to
him
then;
water--water--was
all
he
craved,
and
drank
and
drank
until
three
or
four
in
the
morning,
when
the
fever
would
abate,
and
a
sleep
of
total
exhaustion
followed.
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