Idaho news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1887-1891, 1891-08-22
caught fire and blazed merrily upward.


/ was saved.
But no! The leaves were soon con-
sumed and once more the flame died
out, for still the damp limbs did not
take fire. was doomed.
But had gained breath and strength
during my brief rest, and dashing the
scalding tears of despair from my eyes
! rushed off through the drifts in am
other desperate effort for life.
On. on, on, for miles, 1t seemed to
me. / wallowed and plunged through
that interminable. snow-heaped forest;
but 1t was only TO come around again
TO the scene OF my fruitless attempts
at building fire at last / was lost
indeed
Again / stopped TO gather my little
remaining strength and then staggered
of once more through the wind-swept
woods. IL was my last effort and
could not know II, yet somehow did
not seem 10 fear death as ] had done.
] was benumbed, sleepy. stupeied.
Though not frozen already knew |
would be soon, and even realized that
~ was CtfLAlh 1chlu 10 bJOp
Oni on! oni On through the blind.
ing storm and the bitter cold! On! onl
on! staggering stumbling, falling!
Anywhere, anyhow: on. yet on!
Suddenly came out into clearing,
how large could not tell, and a mo-
ment later huge bulk doomed up be-
fore me. With a thrill OF renewed
courage | saw ii was haystaei.
Yet was / nearer safety? Sometimes
the early settlers had started clearings
and then abandoned them before any
buildings were built. and the hay was
frequently stacked in such places.
Most Of the farmers had scanty barn
room. and many Of the Aroostook
roads were terribly rough until winter
smoothei over the deep ruts and half
buried stumps. With a groan ! real
lied that the nearest house might be
miles away from me even now. IL
left the hay-stack knew | never could
return 10 Ii. Even IL ] had strength
enough to push my way back through
the drifts II l failed in finding better
shelter. / should search for il in vain
In the storm and darkness. What
should / do?
] shouted az the top OF my voice
again and again, and the howl OF the
blast was nay only answer. and / knew
/ could not have been heard half-a-
dozen rods away. My decision was
soon made; would stay by the hay
stack. Ii was only the ghost OF hope
that Il afforded. but / could go nc
further
In a last, despairing effort for life
dropped upon my knees in the snow
within its shelter. and began TO dig 4
hole into It's protecting side.
! Ia this way / wormed myself on
ward through the densely packed Pill,
until my hand came in contact with
the pole about which IL had beer
heapei Then / ceased my efforts.
So little air reached me that at frs
Il seemed as II ! should smother. bu
| / scooped out hole about my head
! and then enough air made its way int
the stack 20 keep me alive. / was TO,
exhausted 10 make my way out again
even II that had not nave been tb,
case.
Gradually my benumbad toes ant
fingers began TO grow warm in the
close. confined space in which l wa
lying. The thick coat. which ] haS
/ deemed such an incumbrance only I
few hours before. the fine hay. packed
closely all around me, and the snow
drifts heaping over everything KEEP
the bitter cold away from me. A sens,
OF comfort overcame me by degrees
and soon slept the sleep Of utter ex
haustion.
II was hours before awoke to con
sciousness again. and when ! did /
was some time before / could tel
where was AZ last however, mem
ory returned to me. and set TO worI
to dig my way out OF my strange bed
room.
II was slow business but / accom-
plished IL at last only 10 find that
was still buried In fleecy snowdrift
made short work OF burrowing d
the top OF that and few moment
later thrust my head out OF a hole 4
its summit IL was broad daylight
and the sun was shining brightly on
white aud buried world.
Aud what do you think was the frs
object that met my eyes? A little 10
house almost entirely buried by tn
drifted snow. and out Of whose on
still uncovered window looked til
white. terrified faces Of my wife an
little ones, had spent the night i
my own haystack and within tire
hundred feet of my own doorstep.
Results OF Hmbibing.
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