The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-02-21

separately, and then united on one
word, crying together again and again,
our only answer the silence of the grave.
| Every soul in the village, probably,
had been killed, or, like ourselves, had
been buried beneath the snow and ice
of the mountain. 1t was only after we
had exhausted ourselves with vain
cries for help that we meditated on
helping ourselves. We had not been
injured. We remembered that we were
in the little sitting-room downstairs,
the windows only of which seemed
broken in, and filled with snow, ice
and stones. The stairway was also
filled with snow and the debris of the
crushed walls. Above us all was desc
lation.
How deep the avalanche lay across
us we feared even to conjecture. AS is
my custom when in the Alps, l had a
flask in my pocket of the best brandy.
persuaded my companions to drink,
and drank myself until the last drop
disappeared. Possibly it gave us cour-
age.
The furniture in the room seemed all
in its proper place. We could move
about. but it was becoming terribly
cold, and we felt the sleepy chill, that
dreadful precursor of death by freez-
ing, overcoming us. Once we were
certain we heard voices above us, and
again we shouted to try to tell them we
were still alive. We listened; the
voices were gone-we were abandoned
ITO our fate.
r. For hours we had alternately shouted
4 and listened, until we sank down in de-
spair. 1t must have been midnight
when, in our groupings about the little
chamber, our hands came on a wax
candle. In few moments we had
light-light to die By.
1t would have been a strange sight
for an artist-that buried room, with
the dim light, the windows filled with
snow, and the three inmates there
waiting death. Once l attempted to
encourage my companions, though N.Y.
self hopeless, by telling of people who
had been dug out of avalanches safe
and well; but my words brought only
groans. Hours went by. l don't know
whether we were sleeping or freezing,
when 1 started at hearing voice cry,
GA light! a lightr' 1 sprang to my
feet, and again the voice cried, GA
lightr' In ten minutes three half
frozen, half-insane human beings were
tenderly lifted from the grave into the
gray light of the morning. A hundred
noble souls had labored the long night
through, seeking the buried.
Every man and woman, from every
village in the whole valley, had hur-
ried to the scene, and was straining
every nerve to rescue those to whom
life might still be clinging. We were
among the last taken from the snow
and rocks, which had lain upon us
thirty feet in depth. Did those brave
rescuers wonder that we knelt to them,
and kissed the hens of their ragged
garmentsP
Beautiful Bleiberg is no more. Half
of those whom we saw dancing along in
the procession of the carnival, in the
bright sunshine, sleep among the vio-
lets ON the hillside. The snow, and
the ice, and the black powders from
the mountain, and the dark fir-trees,
still lie, in this early summer of 1879,
in one mass in the valley. We all left
as soon as we could travel. l went
home to z.
| My chief has resigned, and am now
acting Consul in his place. Should the
Senate confirm all the new appoint
ments, expect to remain as Consul.
Miss Shelton thinks also of remaining,
and when Americans wander to Z
they will find the latch-string of our
home at the Consulate on the outside
of the door.
One word and 1 am done. Mrs. Shell
ton has lost,a part of her pension-so
much of it as was allowed for minor
daughter. 1 have so reported it to the
Commissioner at Washington.-Har-
per's Magazine for February.