Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-04-04

aosconued with portion oil the baggage.
Excuse my incredulity, mon cher. "
he said coolly, but your snow flood, as
you phrase it, appears too nearly related
to Sinbad's Valley of Diamonds, and the
other contents of the Thousand and One
Nights, 10 command credence; and shall
use my own discretion as regards the
route 10 be followed"
The other Europeans, if less supercilious
were almost equally deaf to all the argu-
ments which could urge. None of them
had witnessed, though all of them had
heard of, the fell force of that snowy
tempest to which the Asiatics had given
SO picturesque name and none were will
ing to run the gauntlet of the prowling
Morgols in order to elude Il danger which
might prove mythical. But Ellen, who
believed in me because she loved me, used
all her influence with her father, and with
such good effect that Mr.. Merton yielded
a reluctant consent to have his own and
his daughters horses resaddled, and TO set
off under my guidance, in the direction in
dcated by Sing.Si.
AS we left the camp, lighted by IL broad.
full moon that bathed the steppc with sill
very brightness | observed that the north
ern sky was growing very dark, and that
the long filaments Of gray cloud had be-
come knit together, us though the VaIkyrs
were indeed busy ut the loom of death.
The wind, also, blowing in litlul gusts.
had become piercingly cold. and our very
horses snortrd and shifted the air us though
they scented the approach of some view
less peril.
BY the time We had ridden, rs guessed,
some two miles from the halIing place,
the northern sky had darkened still more,
and the SLOW sobbng of the desert wind
had swclled into shrek, whilst the tenn
peraiurc was perceplibly lower, 50 that
Ellen shivered more from cold than fe;lr.
We pressed on. Mr.. Merton, as have said,
had been unwilling to take my counsel, in
opposition to the SCOTS and rGmonstranceS
of his friends, but now he said in IN alter
ell tone:
81 begin to think, Richards, that you
and the Tarlars were right. God bless Aon
for your unselIish kindness, my boy, what
ever comes of this
Before could reply, II terrified outcry
from Ellen'S lips made me turn my head
just as the first quick snowfakes came
whirling down, and there, behind us,
throwing before it, rs it came, Il ghaslly
gleam Of light, came from the north Il
shapcless whiteness, rolling pitiously on.
"The snow! the snown we exclaimed
us if with one voice, urging on our af-
frighted horses to their fullest speed, while
behind us, like the tide rising fast over
the sands of the sea shore, swept on the
white wave, burying beneath it us it ad-
vanced, bush and mound, and water
course, and blotting out every feature oI
the landscape to the northward.
Then began race indeed; the alarmed
horses strained every sinew to outstrir
the pursuing fate; but with all our speed
the drift gained upon us, and presently we
found ourselves plungng and tloundering
up to our saddle-girths in snow. Tho
moons radiance was now obscured, anC
afar of to the westward my eye had caugh
the rnddy glance of IL fire, such us char
coal-burners kindle among the hills, and
never did u storm-tossed mariner watcf
the welcome beacon of some harbor more
eagerly than did this saving light.
The fire, had conjectured, was burn
ing high upon one of the wooded spurs oil
the mountain range near the sources o.
the Amour, but to reach it was no trilline
task. Our exhausted steeds, worn out by
the toilsome passage through the snow
could scarcel y be urged to fresh eXertions
while the rush of the deepening flood, and
the binding showers that dashed into oul
faces, threatened at each instant to over.
whem us, We reached Amour ut last
down the swollen current of which were
whring masses of snow, and here Ellen.
horse fell, and could not be laised, while
that of Mr.. Merton, gasping and spent, nc
longer answered to the spur.
Save yourself Frank! leave us! why
should all perish?' groaned the merchant
There was some strength and spirit ye
left the gallant Turcoman that | bestrode
and snatching up Ellen's light form in my
arms, spurred into the river, and strug
Cling through, deposited my precious bur
den on the turf beyond, under the shelter
of rocky boulder. | then recrossed the
ford, and, bidding Mr.. Merton to cling
tightly to my horses name, for the thrC
time breasting the current, and half swim
ming, half wading, when we got through
on the farther bank my noble horse reeleC
and fell, with u faint low neigh, and Sc
died. The carcasses of the others were
already buried beneath the driven snow
The rest of oar story-how, after some
fatigue, we scaled the rocky rayine where
stood the hut of the charcol-burners, and
how these rough but kindly beings warm
ed and fed us, and finally enabled us tC
reach Kachta in safcty-is Il tale Of mere
common. place hardship. have been foul
years the happy husband of Ellen, and Il
Junior partner in the thriving house o.
Merton Il Paulovitch, although our sphere
of business has been removed TO less 70
mantle region than that of Eastern Sibe-
ria. OF the fate of Count Aunenkof ant
the caravan under his charge no survivor
ever returned to headquarters to tell it
AIt The Year ROHRd