Today was miserable. We began moving again in the early morning, then a large snowstorm hit us hard. Not even the fur could keep us warm. It is dreary.

  "What do you think of this?" Lawrence muttered as we tried to sit down our tents.

  It was a pointless effort. There was nothing we could do about the snow and we were so unprepared. William the American is starting to look awful. I cannot bear the thought of him dying to this cold.

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  "How are you feeling, William?" I questioned after we got the tent down.

  "Cold," he muttered.

  We laid him down in the middle, trying to keep him warm. I knew our efforts would not avail.

  "I'm scared for him," Angelo said, sitting beside his friend.

  Angelo had much more fur on than anyone else. That was mostly all of our fault. If there was one thing we couldn't lose, it was him.

  "I am too," I replied.