Knoxville journal. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1874-1986, 1876-05-11
Roland. Il will bs !. . : horrible night % you

II
/ with her help he got upon his feet, but not
/ until he had made more than one attemp..
4 TIRE legs were not broken then. and TINS TOOK
| dreadfuI fear from Jenny's heart. But the
| refuruinp circulation gave him intense pain.
| Leaning on his wffe's pr0fered arm, ne al
| length began to move homera,u- Tue
stormy twilight was already filling the foresL
MANAGING to limp and stumble along, the
outskirts OF the wood were reached before
absolute darkness had set IN.
/ T,ut until row they had not realized the
terrible night OF the storm. II grew worse
with every minute. David alsne was able 70
| distinguish the path that led homeward.
| Around them appeared nothing but the
/ yhirling snow. The forest was shut out, as
| by the sudden fall of q gigantic curtain; be.
/ fore them could be discovered nothing. but
| Inc waycring form OF David, as he wrestled
with the difficulties OF the path.
ave must walk for dear lifel' gasped
/ Roland.
He felt now all the hazard and terror Of
| their position. II was almost impossible To
| breathe In the face Of this fierce gale. III they
lost the path, or the strength of either gave
1 out. the result would be death.
They stumbled on, their arms entwined,
making no attempt to speak after this. Once
Jenny caught at David, patted his shoulder,
| and inurmured that he was good fellow,
brave dog; but she and her husband had
| enough to dc for themselves,
| II seemed 10 both that they must be nearly
at home. Probably more than half the dis
1 lance had been got over, when calamity
/ occurred. David disappeared. He was
| missingl Had their trusty pilot deserted
| them? Yes; for not trace OF him could be
| heard or seen. Roland shouted his name
| bur the wind dashed his voice back again, so
that he scarcely heard ii himself, and he had
no hope OF recalling the fugitive.
They were Off the path now--thc softer
| snow told them this; and they were both
very cold AMI alarmingly exhausted. no
| land thought that this was the end; that all
! hope was over. He clasped his wife closely
In his arms and bowed his head on her
shoulder. II he had not been half dead at
! the outset, with suffering and exhaustion, be
would have borne up more bravely. AS IL
J was he felt that his senses were taking leave
| OF him; and he knew that II he failed, and
| he thought he had failed, he was laying down
not only his own life, but dearer life than
his.
go on--ieaye me- Try to reach -" he
began saying in her ear. But Jenny would
not listen to him. His despairing words
filed her with frenZied strength.
people talk that way when they are freeZ-
ing" she thought. she shall not die.
PRAY, heaven, help me! Bear up, Roland,
lust q little while longerl We must be pref
ty near the house. ! still know enough 10
keep my face to the windm
II cannot 90 on further, Jenny. ] must
lie down and sleep"
"Neyer!p answered poor Jenny. "We
win not give up. IL Is only frozen people
who want 10 sleep. Oh, Father OF all mercy,
help us! II we may only reach our sweet,
sweet home once morel II i may only have
strength to save my dear heart! TO make him
know how love him above everything in
the world"
Thoughts like these were fitting through
her brain as she staggered on, almost falling
at every step. Oh, the cruelty heightened
distancel Would they never touch anything
else but snow-blinding, singing, bewildcr-
ing SHOW? Had it swept away house, fence,
trees, everything, and left them nothing but
this endless plain, where sooner or later, they
must sink down TO their fatal rest?
Roland staggered and fell heavily forward,
casting her arms away from him. IL was a
gesture Of farewell. For one instant II seemed
TO Jenny that IL would be very sweet to fling
herself down beside him and fall asleep. An
aching WEAKNESS filled her limbs; her very
heart seemed turning TO ice.
Yet she would not give up. Energy, strug-
gle, meant either life or death, as she should
use or non use them. She partly raised poor
Roland from the snow, and tried to shout
encouraging words, but her lips were be-
numbed, and ii was like shouting behind the
torrent Of Niagara.
IL was when Jenny began desperately to
drag him on by main force that Roland rail-
lied little and showed signs OF resistance.
ut was an uBgallant thing for a man to per-
init woman to carry him, or partially TO
carry him, he dmly thought, striving to free
himself from her grasp. All his faculties
were dulled. But the more he resisted the
more Jenny persevered. She always believed
afterward that God gave her strength.
IL was while she was dragging aud coax
ing aud lifting and beating him all at the
same time, and Turing him on with the sweet
est and tenderest words, that most heaven
| ly sound swept across her hall deiirlous
senses. The lowing Of the COW! The COW,
anxious for shelter and support
Then ID was that the poor, exhausted young
wNman felt that she should swoou herself;
that she should die; the rebound from de-
| SPAR to hope was SO sudden. On him, If he
| heard 1t, the sound made no impression. In
| that stage Of apathy he would have unresist-
ingly passed away TO death, though the very
| freight OF home, so TO say, was beamiDg from
it's windows upon him
"Oh, mercifnl Father, help m!--let him
not die nowp' prayed Jenny. And with des-
perate energy she pulled him on; pulled, and
pulled, and pulled. And the house was
gained at last.
Fortunately, the fire had almost gone out
in the stove and the room had a healthful
| chill III It's tHdt WIS DetIfF HulJeu
than comfortable warmth TO partly frozen
people. II seemed an eternity to Jenny be-
fore she cculd command her fingers slIfIi-
GENTLY to light the lamp. The lamp lighted,
she had TO crawl UP stairs and fling down
blankets and pillows, in which she buried
her husband, first gladdening herself with the
assurance that he was alive, and probably not
badly frozen. Then she turned her attention
to the fire. She regretted having said so
haughtily, in that far-otf mornlng-ages ago,
IL seemed-that there was plenty OF wood.
There was no wood left now; she had put the
last on before going out. But Mrs. Hardy
had not survived the cruel tempest 10 perish
for the lack Of an armfHl OF fuel. Her hus-
band might die yet II not properly cared for.
She could not rest, she could not breathe,
until he could speak TO her again, and assure
her that he was going TO live.
She carried the lamp TO the window and,
shading her face with her hand, looked out.
The wood pile. whenever The driving snow
permitted a glimpse, was diseouraging
sight, only log showing here and there like
the fin Of whale. Jennie shrugged her
shoulders ruefuly, and turned away. Then
she bethought herself Of stack OF wonder
full knots and grotesque little stumps, which
Roland had from time to time stored In u
corner Of the loft, To be worked up when
help In bis labor should arrive and he had
consequently more leisure into vases and
hanging. baskets for the house plants. II
seemed pity TO burn these; but pity must
give way To necessity, and, without a mo-
ment's hesitation, Jenny reascended the