The Democratic advocate., 1885-04-18

dived headlODg into drifts above the horses
withers. With many curse and many a
caressing word did the nemschik, by our
help, extricate his half-buried team and at
last through rift in the whirling flakes
saw the gaunt black and white post that
marked the station at which our journey
for the night ended If anything could
have astonished stolid Pavel, the German
Jew who managed the station, the arrival
Of travellers on such night would have
done it. As it was, instead of that best
welcome which one hopes for at an inn, we
were near being turned away. Had he
something good for supper? 'Nitchevo'
(nothing) Something warm to drink ?
'Nitcheyo Was there plenty of game |?
Still sNitchevo, and so to every question,
until you might fancy 'Nitchevo' was the
only word in the Russian language, as,
thanks to its many various meanings, it al
most might be. That was dreary night
we passed at Sultanovka. The bitter cold
seemed to take shape and size, and torture
and grip us with the personal malice of a
living foe The wooden bedsteads groaned
and thawed slowly as we lay upon them,
until great beads Of moisture stood at every
crevice in the woodwork. Outside the
spirits of wind and storm were abroad to
meet old Christmas on his way from the
frozen North, with nothing more than the
one dim light of the station, cleaning out
over the waste, like the Cyclops' eye, to
watch them.
at was early dawn when, with heads
racked by the pain caused by the sitting
fumes of the charcoal stove and by want of
rest, we sailed out with our guns into the
icy freshness of the new day.
GAS the morning broke, the wind went
down, and the drift resettlng on the steppe
gave us clear view all around. From
time to time, as we came with noiseless
tread into some sheltered balkan, puff of
snow would fly up into the air, and form,
scarcely less white than its surroundings,
would hurry away across the waste, or dye
it with its crimson lfe-blood.
"Here and there we came to tiny pools
where on the frozen surface groups of teal
or duck were sitting with ruffed plumes,
longing for the liquid element, which
seemed for the once to have vanished from
the earth altogether.
"By noon our game sacks had grown
heavy, and we turned our heads toward
home, satisfied that Christmas on the
steppes was little less cherries than
Christmas in the town.
"With our return our troubles began.
'sThe traitor wind that for awhile had
sunk to rest, now rose like giant re-
freshed, whirling the fine snow in powder
from its resting places, and binding the
eyes that sought the homeward way.
"Hour after hour we plodded on in the
ever-increasing darkness of drifted snow,
nothing visible above or around save the
opaque veil that hid the world from our
eyes.
Wilder and wilder grew the wind, catch
ing your light form in his rough embrace
and whirling you in a staggering dance
over the snow. see you now almost as
plainly as l saw you then in my minds
eye at one moment wrapped and buried in
your bourka, the next shot out from it, all
legs and arms, as if it would have been torn
from your shoulders by the wayward giant.
{" go home, go home, the wind seemed
ever whistling in our ears, but the binding
snow Knocked the good advice.
"For your rest seemed near, but such
rest as curdled the blood to think of.
Weakened by want of sleep, wearied by
heavy toll, the grip of the icy wind had
got hold upon your heart, and that dread
drowsiness-sure prelude, if yielded to, to
the everlasting sleep-seemed fast growing
upon you, numbing your energies and
making life appear a boon not half so much
to be desired as the soft, cold couch in the
drift at your feet. Twice your weak knees
failed, and you sank, how softly, into the
snow. Twice I returned and dragged you
from your self-elected shroud supporting
and driving you forward in spite of your
supplications and reproaches.
"But my own strength was waning, my
courage failing, in the hard and bitter bat
tie with the merciless cold.
"There were devils abroad that day, Will,
in the darkness of the snow-storm.
"Nothing less could have whispered in
my ear that your life was all that stood be-
tween me and wealth and freedom from
life loathed-your life, which you your
self prayed me to let you lay down, as a
burden too heavy for you to bear; your life,
which, perhaps, spite of all my efforts, L
could never save, and which might cost me
my own.
cat last, when L was well-nigh spent,
you slid from my grasp, and, afraid to look
at you again, let the devil have his way,
and left you. The tempter had succeeded,
and I, the heir-I, your more than brother
left you to the sleep of death; went on
ward alone to safety, wealth, and, fool that
l was, 1 thought to happiness
"On, on through the storm | struggled
The white curtain had closed forever over
you, and I dared not look behind. On,
and on, but still no sign of the station, and
at last the moan of waves told me the aw-
full truth. l had wandered far from my
course and now nothing remained but to
lie down and die. Not side by side with
YOU, as should have done, not at rest in
innocence, as you had done, but haunted
and tortured even to my last death-throb
by the devil, to whom had yielded. For
a time 1 lay down and listened to the voices
of the waves, mingled with the cries OF
some sea gulls, those mariners mourners
whose even, undulating fight no storm
seems even to disturb. Then l rose and
staggered on again. To me no dreamy
death drew near.
II no longer sought to save my life; nay,
could | have chosen | should now have
preferred death by your side to escape with
out you But it was too late. To look
for you now would have been vain. L
neither knew where l had left you nor
where the inn lay. As plodded mechan-
icaIly forward staggering heavily at every
step, l caught a glimpse of what seemed to
me distant figure in the snow. Huge
and indistinct, at first l could not make
out its outline, until sudden rift in the
storm revealed to me two other wayfarers
battling like myself with the elements.
Madly plunging forward, I tried to over
take them, but the more [ struggled the
deeper | sank in the drifts which now en-
quilted me, sometimes almost to the waist.
Before | could reach them the white cur
tain of the storm swept between us, and L
was again alone From time to time 1t