A frenzied gust of driving snow lashed across Cassidy's face as he pulled his lapel ever tighter. The frigid air stung as he deeply inhaled, trying to catch his breath. There is cold and then there is blistering cold. The kind of cold that pierces through every layer of clothing and stings. The kind of cold that takes hours to find any relief from. It would take more than a warm fire and a hot cup of coffee to forget this kind of cold and both were miles away.
Cassidy trudged on through the driving snow, grumbling every step of the way. It was hard enough walking in snow, but he had the extra burden of carrying his saddle bags, tack, and all his other gear along with his Henry rifle.
His horse lay a few miles back, shot square in the head. It was quick and painless, and the most humane thing he could do for his trusted steed. Somewhere along the line his horse had thrown a shoe and ended up twisting its ankle in the gathering snow. It was a quick break which threw Cassidy face first into a snow drift.
He knew he needed to get some miles between him and his dead horse. It wouldn't take long for the wolves and bears to smell fresh blood and descend on it for dinner.
He had fashioned a rough sled out of some scattered wood he had found and loaded his things on it. He used the bridle as a harness to pull the sled which made his walk slow, but he figured it was better than trying to carry everything.
His leather chaps and worn jeans were caked with hardened snow. His fingers stung from the cold despite his leather gloves and he was tired and hungry. He noticed a small group of snow covered pine trees up ahead. Most of the trees were small, scrubby bushes but there was a small group that were a good forty-foot-tall with big branches. They would make a good shelter for the night, he decided.
Arriving at the group of trees he threw off the harness and caught his breath as he surveyed his surroundings. Looking up at the tall pine trees he looked for any dead limbs that might come down. Once he had chosen a tree that he felt would give him adequate shelter, he began lopping off some of the lower branches to allow him access closer to the trunk of the tree. The underneath of the giant pine was relatively dry and free of snow with lots of old pine needles lying on the ground. As he walked under the pine tree, his boots crushed the pine needles, releasing the pungent smell. He took the limbs he had lopped off and intertwined them with the branches still on the tree to give him added shelter from the wind and snow. Once that was done, he proceeded to gather up some of the dry pine needles into a small bundle to start a fire with and another larger bundle he would use for bedding. He gathered some dead wood that was laying around and placed it under the tree to dry out. Walking out a few feet from the trees he cleaned out an area of snow and built a small wall that would reflect the heat back towards the opening he had created in the pine tree branches. After starting a fire, he retrieved his coffee pot from the sled and packed it with some fresh snow. Then he picked a handful of fresh pine needles and dropped them into the pot. By now the fire had built up a good bed of coals and he carefully placed the pot on the coals. A sigh of comfort escaped his lips as he inhaled the aroma of the campfire and pine. He lay his worn, leather gloves close to the fire to dry and had a dinner of pemmican and pine needle tea.
