Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1878-05-01
The Frost King

But, though not so dangerous, the
still DAYS are the coolest in Manitoba
There are every winter dozen or more
days so magically still that all the usual
sounds of nature seem to be suspended; !;
when the ice cracks miles and miles
away with a report like canon; when
the breaking of a twig reaches us like
the falling of a tree; when ones own
footsteps. clad in soft moccasins, come
back like the crunching of an iron
heel through gravel; when every artifi-
cial sound is exaggerated hundred
fold, and nature seems TO start at every
break in the intense silence. The at
mosphere is as clear as crystal, and the
range of vision seems to be unlimited.
Seen from window, from the cosy
limits of an almost hermetically sealed
room, the clear sunshine and crisp
freshness of the day appear TO invite
one forth to enjoy its seeming mildness.
But the native knows better than 10
venture out. A fifteen minutes walk
in that clear ether is fifteen minutes
fight for existence. A sudden prick
and your noze is frozen; next go both
cheeks: one raises his hand to rub away
the ghastly white spots, only TO add his
fingers to the list of icy members. Rub
as you will, run hard, swing you arms.
all to no purpose; the little white spots
increase in size. until the whole face Is
covered with the waxen leproSy. The
breath congeals almost upon leaving
the mouth, and the icy vapor falls in
stead of rising. Spit, and instantly
there is lump of ice where the spittle
fell. All, it is cold beyond belief. The
spirit registers n temperature away
down in the forties. | have seen a
stalwart man, after two hours exposure
on such a day, walk into the room
where every football clanked upon the
floor like blocks of wood clapping to-
gether: his feet frozen solid as Jumps
of ice. | remember going sixty yards
10 shoot a rabbit and returning with
fingers curled into a hook, and frozen
fast to the trigger-guard. On such a
day one may stand for hours in the
snow with moccasined feet and leave no
trace of moisture behind. The snow is
granulated like sand: there is no adhe-
siveness in il. 1t is as difficult TO draw
sledge through it as through bed OF
sand. Slipperiness has gone out of it.
A horse gives out in no time. And yet
the aspect of all nature is calm, STILL
and equable as on May day
One of the still nights on the prairie
is unspeakably awful. The cold is
measured by degrees as much below
the freezing point IS your ordinary
summer temperature is above it. Scrap
ing away the snow, the blankets and
robes are spread down. Then you
dress for bed. Your heaviest coat is
donned, and the hood carefully pulled
up over the heavy fur cap upon your
head; the largest moccasins and thickest
socks are drawn on common leather
boots would freeze ones feet in a
.winkling); huge leather mittens, ex-
tending to the elbows, and trebly lined,
come next; you lie down and draw all
the available robes and blankets about
you. Then begins the cold. The frost
comes out of the clear, gray sky with
still, silent rigor. The spirit in the
thermometer placed by your head sinks
down into the thirties and forties be-
low zero. Just when the dawn begins