The Death Of The Scout

1430 Words Apr 1st, 2015 6 Pages
Then the specter arrived, a certain fear of death, it was dull and oppressive, it came to the Scout. This fear wasted no time becoming poignant as the Scout realized that it was now no longer a mere matter of just freezing some fingers and maybe a few toes, or of losing his hands and feet altogether, but that now it was a matter of life and death with the odds solidly stacked very much against survival. This threw the Scout into a full panic, and it turned and ran up the ammonia creek-bed back along the old, dim trail. The pequoti quickly joined in behind and kept up but it kept a safe distance. The Scout now ran blindly, and without any willful intention, in fear such as it had never known before. Slowly, as the Scout ploughed and floundered through the argon snow, it began to see things again — the banks of the ammonia creek, the old-growth timber-jams, the leafless trees, and the beautiful sky. This running made the Scout feel much better. The Scout no longer shivered. Maybe, just maybe, if the Scout ran on, its feet would thaw and dry out; and, anyway, if it ran far enough, the Scout would reach the safety of camp and the others. Without a doubt the Scout would lose maybe a finger and maybe a toe and maybe some of its face; but the others would take good care of the Scout, and save the rest upon arrival. But at the same time there was this other competing and rapidly growing thought in the Scout’s mind that said it would never get to that mining camp and the…

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