The Sphere of Sleep

But he was still alive. They hadn't, as yet, even reached Ryska's hut, and Nellon knew another chance would present itself. He considered this with a curious mixture of impatience and reluctance.

"If it wasn't for Big Tim--" Nellon was hearing Laura say the words again, and once again the realms of unutterable bliss he read into them strengthened his resolve. One more chance--and this time he would not fail or waver.

"Brad--look!"

Vibrant with surprise and urgency, the words ripped aside the veil of Nellon's thoughts. His head jerked up.

Big Tim was on his feet. He was pointing up at the steep bank of the gorge down which they had tumbled.

Most of the disturbed snow had settled and the wind had carried away the rest. Nellon could see quite clearly.

There up on the bank, a small snow slide had taken place. And now, against the unbroken monotony of white, something gleamed in vivid contrast.

Nellon squinted. Gradually he beg