Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1880-02-13

catastrophe had befallen us; the wrath
of the mountains was upon the village
For a moment we stood paralyzed-
speechless.
My first impulse was to rush to the
street, and TO drag my companions with
me- but there was no street. Even the
garden had disappeared in foam of
snow and ice We thought of the back
window ut the embankment, but as we
tore it open, q single glance toward the
mountain told us the horror was but
begun. THE forest!" we all shouted
IN breath. 1t was gone, all gone, as
Ii mown by mighty reaper, and masses
OF other snow seemed ready to slide.
Ihe white brow of the mountain still
CLEANED in the sunshine, and seemed to
laugh at the desolation. Another whiz-
zlng, roar, and with our own eyes
we saw the side of the mountain start.
instantly and together we sprang down
the steps into the lower room. There
was roll OF thunder, a mighty crash,
and then al Was darkness. We were
buried alive oeneath an avalanche.
What st thoughts were l am un-
able to f,s.JN / only remember our
fearful orfs4 ~help; how We shouted
| separately, a}f8 tlsen unitod 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 down stairs, the win
dows only of which seemed broken in,
and filled with snow, ice and stones.
The stairway was also filled with snow
and the debris of crushed walls. Above
us all was desolation.
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 freezing,
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 to our fate.
For hours we had alternately shouted
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 wax
candle. In few moments we had
light-light to die by.
Hours went by. don't know whether
we were sleeping or freezing, when l
started at hearing voice cry, "A light!
a light" l sprang to my feet, and again
the voice cried, "a lightw In ten min
utes three half-frozen, half-insane
human beings were 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 hurried
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 gar
ments?
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 violets
on the hillside. The snow and the ice
and the black powders from the noun
tain, and the dark tir-trees, still lie, in
this sammer of 1879, in one mass in the
valley. We all left as soon as we could
travel. I went home to Z.
My chief has resigned, ana 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 | am done. Mrs. Shell =,
ton has lost a part of her pension-so
much of it as was allowed for minor
daughter. have so reported it to the
commissioner at Washing on.-Harper's
Monthly.