Harold Edward Bindloss,
The Gold Trail — Chapter XXXII
(1910)
“ When they had climbed for an hour, the snow grew thicker, and it became evident that the light was dying out rapidly. The freighter announced that he could scarcely see a dozen yards ahead, and Weston could discern no more than the blurred shape of the horse that floundered over the slippery stones a few paces in front of him. He could, however, hear Devine encouraging the one he led, and occasionally breaking out into hoarse expletives."It's gluey feet they want," said the latter, when they stopped for a minute or two. "You can't expect horses to crawl up a wall." ”
