feet would thaw

A certain fear of death, dull and oppressive, came to him. This fear quickly became poignant
as he realized that it was no longer a mere matter of freezing his fingers and toes, or of
losing his hands and feet, but that it was a matter of life and death with the chances
against him. This threw him into a panic, and he turned and ran up the creek-bed along the
old, dim trail. The dog joined in behind and kept up with him. He ran blindly, without
intention, in fear such as he had never known in his life. Slowly, as he plowed and
floundered through the snow, he began to see things again, the banks of the creek, the old
timber-jams, the leafless aspens, and the sky. The running made him feel better. He did not
shiver. Maybe, if he ran on, his feet would thaw out; and, anyway, if he ran far enough, he
would reach camp and the boys. Without doubt he would lose some fingers and toes and some of
his face; but the boys would take care of him, and save the rest of him when he got there.
And at the same time there was another thought in his mind that said he would never get to
the camp and the boys; that it was too many miles away, that the freezing had too great a
start on him, and that he would soon be stiff and dead. This thought he kept in the
background and refused to consider. Sometimes it pushed itself forward and demanded to be
heard, but he thrust it back and strove to think of other things.