This is the bitterest winter I can recall. I fear that I will not be able to make it back through the pass before the snows close it. I can still turn back; Redmont is four days behind me. But if I do, I will not reach Rachel and Abe until the thaw. I have supplies for the journey, and the mule is sturdy. I will press on. It is very cold. I do not have much food. I am beyond the reach of that dead and barren land, but I have emerged into another. The snowfields stretch as far the eye can see in all directions. I will travel as far as I can. 32? 33 34 I have to stop for just a minute. Febry 2?