The colt's restless lifting of its head he overcame by sitting
near it and stroking its muzzle with a soothing hand.
Time and again he rose to re-heat the stones and replenish the fire. The
colt's breathing became less irregular. He gave it more of the hot
whiskey and water.
Then he mended the fence. He had brought an axe with him and a supply of
staples.
Toward mid-afternoon he became hungry and solaced himself with a
cigarette.
Again the blunder colt became restless, showing a desire to rise, but
for lack of strength the desire ended with a swaying and tossing of its
head.
Evening came quickly. The air grew bitingly chill. Collie wished that
one of the boys would bring him something to eat. The foreman surely
knew where he was. Collie could imagine the boys joking about him over
their evening "chuck."
With the darkness he drew on his slicker and squatted by the fire. He
fell asleep. He awoke shivering, to find the embers dull. The stars were
intensely brilliant and large.
Once during the evening he made up his mind to return to the
ranch-house, but a stubborn determination to save the colt, despite the
ridicule he knew he would elicit, held him to his task. Should he leave,
the colt might become chilled again and die.
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