The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-08-02


cared to stir far from home "until the
frost should let go its hold little"
"John," said the careful judge on the
third day, when the abating storm began
to let in the frost" John, don't you
think you'd better go over and take q
look at the Ericsons? don't think the
old man was ready for this"
What! You amt in earnest?" ex-
claimed that ardent lover. "Ten miles
through these drifts! Do you want me
to bury myself"
" Well, maybe you're right; but
wouldn't wait too long. They'll be
breaking out the roads in a day or two"
replied the judge.
But more than "a day or two'' went
by before the Mataska people cared to
attempt great deal in the way of road
making, and in the meantime the Eric
sons " had not been ready for this"
With endless supplies of timber land
close by-that is, within a mile or so,
and generally fine winter weather to
haul in what he might want, old Jan
could never see the policy of making up
much of wood-pile.
Besides, a huge provision for warmth,
such as his neighbors made, offended
JAMS keen sense of economy. They
would surely waste what they had SO
much of.
When, however, the old man saw the
storm beginning, the even unusually
bare condition of his pile of chips struck
him with sudden dismay, and he at once
started for the forest with q yoke of
oxen.
1t was rash thing to do, for man of
his age; but he had counted on his
thorough Scandinavian toughness to
carry him through. And so it did; for
at supper-time he fought his way to the
house again, through the heaping drifts
and the binding rush of the storm; but
he came alone, for his team and their
load were hopelessly stalled and showed
under.
There was fuel enough on hand for
that night, with economy, and old Jan
cheered Norma with the promise of what
he would do on the morrow. And Norma
tried to be cheerful; but the bowling,
dismal tempest without was orly too
we'll in keeping with the dismal state of
her own internal feelings and thoughts.
The night went by and the morning
came, and the storm still ragged; but old
Jan did not go out 10 cut wood.
He did not even leave his bed, for ex-
posture and cold and over exertion had
done their work on his rheumatic old
limbs, and imprisoned him only too
efectually.
Poor Norna's heart sank within her,
for she knew that such attacks were apt
to be tediously long, and even food
might fail her, as we'll as the means of
cooking it.
She was brave girl, and she made out
to 60 to the barn and the stables that
day, SO that the stock did not suffer; but
the new fence-rails and odd pieces of
timber she was able to bring in enabled
her to make but poor defense against
the fast increasing cold.
Moreover, old Jan was chilly, and
fretted and complained of the absence of
the grand old fires he had been used to in
his youth, among the distant hills of
Norway.
This was a terrible day for Norma, and
when another morning dawned, she look
ed out upon the white and more than
Arctic desolation around the house.
with a feeling near akin to despair.
Still, with true courage, the beauty of
Mataska faced her troubles, waded
through the drifts, fed carefully her one
feeble fire, attended to the querulous
demands of unreasonable old Jan, and
wondered, now and then, if the people
at the village would ever dream of send
ing out to look after them.
Then there followed another long,
dark, miserable night, and Norma could
not get wink of sleep till toward morn
ing for thinking of what might come.
She did not even rise at once when the
tardy light began to come through the
thickly frosted panes of her window.
Why should she, when she had nothing
to make fire with?
"Would it be better to burn the
furniture than to freeze? She could
make a cup of coffee at least, with the
kitchen chairs"
Just then she heard slight sound in
the adjoining room, and wondered if her
father could be stirring.
1t was an effort to rise and dress in
that singing cold; but Norma was brave,
and in few moments more she was
ready to face the labors and perils Of til e
day.
Her heart was heavy enough when she
laid her hand on the kitchen-door; but
when she opened it she fairly started
back in establishment, for blast of warm
air, balmy with the breath of blazing
pine, smote her in the face.
Not the cherries, chill, deathly desc
lation she had expected was the ample
kitchen, but the high-piled hearth
blazed and cracked with most un-
wonted prodigslity of pine, oak and
hickory, while heaped on either side of
1t were ample supplies for at least that
days consumption, whatever might be
the condition of the thermometer.
Norma did not believe in miracles, but
she thought of her bedridden father,
about to be frozen to death but for that
pile of wood, and she just sat down by
the window for a good, wholesome cry
before she set herself to work at getting
breakfast ready.
The tea-kettle had evidently filed itself
and started for boil on its own account,
and Norpa's curiosity took her at once to
the door, to see what solution of the
puzzle might be found outside. Not a
sign of human life was there, but some
body had been at work with shovel,
for there was very decent pathway cut
as far as the barn.
Tracks, of course, here and there, but
big boots are too nearly alike to tell
tales to the eyes of any one less acute of
vision than an Indian trailer.
Still, Norma wondered and wonder e
how all that wood could ever have got
there.
Getting into the house was easy
enough in region where wooden latches