From "Greylorn".

By Keith Laumer

"I stepped through the door. It was bitter cold in the lock. Near the outer hatch the bulky cannister, rimed with white frost, lay in a pool of melting ice. Before it lay the half shrouded bulk that it had contained. I walked closer. They were frozen together into one solid mass. Kramer was right. They were as human as I. Human corpses, stripped, packed together, frozen. I pulled back the lightly frosted covering and studied the glazed white bodies. Kramer called suddenly from the door. 'You found your colonists, Captain. Out here man is a tame variety of cattle.'

1959.