Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1877-11-30

ness all disappeared from the sky and
the wind whistled around the house,
rafting the blinds and whirling the snow
this way and that into every crevice and
corner it could find.
"Why did I do it?' she repeated a
hundred times that morning, as the
hours went on and the storm went
sweeping by. At eleven o'clock she
could stand it no longer. Calling Jane,
the maid, she told her to go at once to
the store and tell her master to send for
Bessie and Joe without delay.
1t took poor Jane five minutes just to
go from the side-door to the gate, and
half an hour to reach the store The
drifts across the road ran from fence
to fence, and even the teams were strug-
Cling along an inch at time.
Say L will go at once, said papa
A neighbor was passing in sleigh, and
they agreed to push on together
How it did snow! AS on the hills, so
in the valley. The roads were almost
impossible. The horse plunged and
reared as the huge snow-drifts arose be-
fore him and the binding storm dashed
into his face.
They couldn't have gone further
than the halfway house, anyway said
the neighbor, trying to keep papa's cour-
age up. The half way house was where
a little old woman lived all alone, and
sold apples and candy to the children as
they passed on their way to school.
The horse struggled on.
Bless We, sirs, the childers is gone
back two hours ago. ach wild stick O
candy, so smilin' an happy" said the
little old woman. 'Shure. they didn't 90
on at ALL
1t was then past two o'clock, and two
hours more it took them to travel that
short distance back again. And when
they reached home the horse was help
less
Well, mamma, cried papa, cheerful
ly, making believe he WASH nearly wild
with anxiety, are the children up stairs
or playing in the barn?"
White and trembling mamma answers,
What! Haven't you brought them?'
And mamma gives up then, while Jane
and papa lift her upon the lounge, try
ing to bring back the light into her eyes
once more.
BY five o'clock brave strong men were
out with heavy ox-teams But the wo-
men shook their heads. Eight hours in
the storm, and nothing but wee bits of
children, too. And they take their own
babies into their arms and think: What
if they should be out in the snow?''
And not few brave the storm to go
and comfort the poor mamma whose
children are really lost to her.
Blow! blow! blowl But overhead the
air is clearing. A shout goes up as a
star peeps out through the clouds and
the storm is over. The voices of the
men, as they break into parties and
leave the road to the right and to the
left, are heard in every direction. And
the moon comes out just as we saw it on
the hills.
Six, seven o'clock! What hopeless
task it seems! Any drift might cover
them. and willing hands might pass them
by without sign.
Still they work on, wandering far out
over the fields, stopping at farmhouse
door here and there, gaining helpers ev-
erywhere. The snow still drifts with
the wind but the search for the lost
never flags.
Hark Was it a shout? No. Listen
again.
Bow WOW, WOW!
Creeping slowly through the snow
lifting one paw wearily after another,
comes a dog No one seems to know
him, and around his neck is hung a hun
ters pouch.
Did say no one knows him? That
was a mistake. We know him well, do
we not? His name is Hector and he
left the little house on the hill three
hours ago. The dog is lifted upon one
of the ox-sleds. 1t seems to give him
new life to hear human voice once
more, and he tries to spring up and lick
the face of the man who pats his shag-
gy sides. Then he was down once more
in the snow, whining and barking fur
iously.
Hullo! p" cried the CHEEKY voice of
one of the men, What have we here?
A shot-pouch, as live!' he cried, work
ing at the string that bound it.
Sure enough, and, stranger still, in the
pouch money and a request for food.
| The little message from nowhere was
eagerly passed from hand to hand.
know the dog" said one, who just
came up. I've met him hunting on the
hills yonder. He belongs to the young
fellow who lives with his mother in the
old Barnes house"
"Who are they" asked Il dozen at
once.
Don't know They came from the
other side OF the mountain. Only been
| there since summer
Look at the dog! No longer dropping
and weary, he springs back and forth
from sled to sled, whining and crouching
at the feet of the men.
What is it, my dog? We can't go up
the mountain tonight; but you shall
have your fill and full pouch to carry
home, my brave fellow"
So the men say; but Hector does not
mind Leaping through the snow, he
looks back, whines, and nearly speaks.
What pity he cannot!
Suddenly man shouts: Can it be
the children?"
Can it be? Is there any doubt of it?
See how the dog answers Tumbling,
bounding, barking joyously, and the sleds
move creaking on. Through the drifts,
out of the road, over the fences. slowly
60 the crow of men, the oxen and all.
Now to the left. What great domcs are
those far out in the fields by the woods?
There are two of them. and on the wind
ward side the snow has been swept
away. There we see plain enough; they
are haystacks, and where the hay has
been pulled away in as large armfuls as
poor little Joe could take-there, in the
little playhouse which he had made
where Hector pokes his great black
nose, and where papa stoops and enters
there they are-wet, hungry and near
ly frozen, but safe! And a shout goes
up, which is carried back to the linger-
ing searchers, back to the farm-houses
and over the fields to the listening ones
at home. Safe from all the dangers of
that terrible day! Safe once more in low
ing arms on papa's breast
How they kept Thanksgiving the next
day at Upper Highlands! What! Some
one in the narrow circle of their little
township actually wanting food?
So they questioned, and this is the
way they answered At early daybreak
on that Thanksgiving morning the sleds
and oxen were out again. OFF toward