Chapter VIII

           WelldoIrememberthatfirstwinterafterIlefthome.Ihavelongdreamsofsittingshiveringinthecold.Lop-EarandIsitclosetogether,withourarmsandlegsabouteachother,blue-facedandwithchatteringteeth.Itgotparticularlycrispalongtowardmorning.Inthosechillearlyhourswesleptlittle,huddlingtogetherinnumbmiseryandwaitingforthesunriseinordertogetwarm.

           Whenwewentoutsidetherewasacrackleoffrostunderfoot.Onemorningwediscoverediceonthesurfaceofthequietwaterintheeddywherewasthedrinking-place,andtherewasagreatHow-do-you-doaboutit.OldMarrow-Bonewastheoldestmemberofthehorde,andhehadneverseenanythinglikeitbefore.Iremembertheworried,plaintivelookthatcameintohiseyesasheexaminedtheice.(Thisplaintivelookalwayscameintooureyeswhenwedidnotunderstandathing,orwhenwefelttheprodofsomevagueandinexpressibledesire.)Red-Eye,too,whenheinvestigatedtheice,lookedbleakandplaintive,andstaredacrosstheriverintothenortheast,asthoughinsomewayheconnectedtheFirePeoplewiththislatesthappening.

           Butwefoundiceonlyonthatonemorning,andthatwasthecoldestwinterweexperienced.Ihavenomemoryofotherwinterswhenitwassocold.Ihaveoftenthoughtthatthatcoldwinterwasafore-runnerofthecountlesscoldwinterstocome,astheice-sheetfromfarthernorthcreptdownoverthefaceoftheland.Butweneversawthatice-sheet.