Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1873-01-29
The Snowflake

the Snowflake.
A very good name for it is this
which likens to what suggests cold ant
pure Wilderness, and floats downward
so very lightly; for the Snowflake
dwells and builds in the far north
amid Arctic frost and cold, futterins
about in the winter starlight, with tn
flicker of the ruddy Aurora on he
white wings, and settling on floating
iceberg OF desolate strand as lightly a.
any other fake Of silent, downy snow
The Snowflake builds her nest AMI
rears her young under the shelter o
some projecting rock, overhangiDe
icicle, or driftWood spar which ha
been foated up by the tide from
shipwrecked vessel, and covered Will
tangled seaweed. She builds whereve
she can find nook or crevice-;
place Just little less desolate than til,
surrounding desolation.. Once sh.
built but I viii tell you how it was
It is a sorrowfil tale, though it has it,
bright side and ] can never hear tn,
name of Snowflake without thinking
OF it. " H#T ta
It was in the Arctic winter, and tn,
frozen snow was as hard as stone, i
gllttered and sparkled, for the star
were bright overhead, and the moon
was at the full, 1t was high tide, ant
the waves, of q deep leaden grey, wer,
rearing up their great crests and fling
! lng themselves down with thunder1n.
noise on the shore E
At a distance you might hear th,
screaming Of the sea-5irds, as the,
skinned with their white wings owe
the water and along the skirts of thu
icebergs you might see the foxes proHl
ling, and catch in the twilight the fiery
glitter of their tawny eyes. ,...
Beside this there was no 6ound-nt
movement; everything in that starli
night was desolate. The world
was turning round under those
seemed, their places; and the moor
was riding on through the millions
upon millions that make up the Milk,
Way but beyond this movement there
was no change i'll the heavens from
hour to hour, and there was no change
rmovement beneath them-everythine
was perfectly white and utterly still.
Did [ say it was white 2 So it was
a moment ago; but it has changed
The whole world and the heavens have
undergone change There is a quiz.
ering III the sky a swift spire of flame
| shoots across the stars. Another
There is deep glow in the zenith,
like half transparent crimson cloud
1t spreads out suddenly then it auiv
ers; it sinks downwards it is like 6
pennon on fire shaken in an angels
hand. Now it divides-it multiplies-
and Pushes a more rosy red; it trains
itself out before the stars, and floats
across the moon like veil-a wonder
full veil The whole heavens are red
with it; and the earth, which was
white, has put on a crimson blush
every iceberg has a crimson edge, and
every wave has crest OF crimson foam.
So much for the world without. Now
let us glance at the world within. IN.
der the shelter of some rising grounds
a little curling smoke ascends. There
are some snow-huts built against that
hill, but they are buried to their roofs
the inmates can only creep out of the
holes which serve both for door and
chimney. There is now no sound in
those huts but the light sound of fall.
ing ashes and the setting together OF
burning logs. The Esquimauz sleeps
soundly after his hard days hunting
his dogs sleep beside him, and so do
his children. His wife alone watches
the fire, to keep it bright for her lord
and when he turns in his heavy sIum-
Der she wraps him again III his furs.
All the huts are equally silent-all
the men are dreaming; and the women
watching by turns those precious
fires on which their lives depend.
They only move from them
to trim the lamps, OF sleek the skin OF
some favorite dog when he wakes up
and whlnes TO them for food.
One hour passes over their heads
another change greater than that which
tinged the white snow with crimson has
come upon them. The moonlight,
when that hour commenced, fell on q
dark, waveripg, advancing line, which
stole along the brow Of distant hill
like black serpent gliding onward to
It's prey. The Wavering line came on
and grew distinct; it heightened out
it was made up of many members It
sped rapidly towards the huts; it was
company Of armed and desperate
men. a, sz. ia rs .aa9 .
Tho hour passes, and oh how chang
ed the scene The sullen wave breaks
still upon the shore, but its sound Is
deadened by the cries of those some.
time sleepers, By heather shouts and
savage war cries, while fast and fast
the mothers fly out into the cold They
drag their children after them, and
gather their infants to their breasts,
thinking 1t better the frost should slay
them than the keen knife of the muir
derers. The snow is blotted now with
spots OF deeper red, and the air filed
with the clash Of weapons, the wailing
OF children, the heavy fall of murder
ed men, and the shrieks of mad despair.
The wild creatures start from their
lairs, and the icebergs echo with their
cries; the screaming birds rush past
affrighted, the dogs howl, but the
struggle is not for long.
The hour IS past; ruin and raplne
and revenge have done their work the
blazing firebrands are torn from the
hearths, and flung out to be quenched
IN the snow they fare IN the faces of
the dead-dead father, dead mother,
dead child. There are many of them,
aud none but the dogs make lamenta
ton, while, fast as tears, the snow be-
gins to fall. 1t is more merciful than
warfare, more pitiful than man, for
slowly and softly it does the work left
undone Of human hands; it first
shrouds, and then buries, the murdered
dead.
The sword has slain some; but the
cold more. In a few days the sun be-
gins TO shine. First he shows an edge
OF amber above thehills, then he comes
high up and floods the sea with gold
he puts out the stars he covers the ice
bergs with rainbow CLEANS, but thore
IS no human eye to greet his appear
ance: the shores of that bound bay
are utterly empty and still.