The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1942-12-22

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as they climbed.
II was an hours trip, part oi
the way through deep snow thai
had drifted down onto the path
They followed the tracks of mer
who had gone ahead that after
noon, their torches flaring red
ly, the pitch trailing out billow:
of black smoke whenever the
wind rasped downward under
the sere branches. Like a giant
they carried him. silent in the
coffin, a hundred steps for every
one of his years, an instants sill
ence for every word he hac
spoken.
Each of them in that desolats
hour had his separate thoughts
Osterholm of the moment wher
that afternoon, for the frs
time, he had struck his child
She had grown deathly white
and said in low voice, III
mamma were alive. anc
stood there and looked at him
with wide and tear-struck eyes.
Gunnar trudged upward un
der the weight of the dead man
and wished he could talk to Sol
veig. The strange awe he fell
was something he could have
told only to his wife. Their lit
tie Gunda was sick in bed, wrap
ped in one of his old coats. She
had had a fever that afternoon
There were others. Some OF the
men, too, and their wives -. "A
bad time to get SICK ne
thought.
Their boots crunched in the
hard snow. The wind cut at their
faces; sometimes a man Stun
bled, and his torch flared down
like a signal light, but other
hands reached for the poles. The
coffin never wavered; they car
ried the old man like king.
Just below the crest of the hill
they laid the coffin down on the
snow and rested, breathing
heavily. The trees were thinner
here, and the white moon high
overhead cast all their shadows
in sharp relief.
Now that they were in the
clear the moon gave plenty Of
light, so they put out theil
torches before they started to-
ward the level patch of GROUND
that jutted out to sea.
It was where Mortensen haC
watched two nights before, ano
Kjerlof the intervening night
On the farthest lip of land
there was still a hollow in the
snow where they had lain.
A little to one side of black
patch of new-dug earth they sci
the coffin down. The wind soar
ed cold above them with a rush.
ing noise. And there on that
lonely land they buried him. A:
the shovels poured clods over
the hollow boards, the pastor be-
gan to pray in a loud, monot'
onous voice.
The doctor was stamping hi!
feet. Mems coats were whip
ping sideways about their legs
The pastor lifted his voice. "Oul
Father, who art in heaven. =
The words were lost in the wind
Men turned their heads away
unable to bear the sting.
"Hallowed be Thy name"
And at that instant, as if in 6
dead march, they heard the
faint, nervous rumbling Of
drums. Gunnar stiffened ano
looked quickly around. Listen,
he cried.
And then one of them saw
light flicker far out on the hori-
zon. "Gunnar! To the west"
The drums rolled landward
again. The men looked up ner'
vously at the pastor. "Kjerlof,'
Gunnar whispered. "Kjerlof, the
glasses"
what is it?" somebody cried
They crowded forward to the
lands edge, and out where the
black water met the sky a pin
prick of light flared and was as
quickly gone. A tense hope
sprang up in all of them. Gun
flashes" said Gunnar, who was
watching through the glasses.
Someone began to count. The
drums rolled in again. "Abou,
IL miles"
"An English ship" the doctor
said, and caused them all to look
at him, for it was the first word
he had spoken all evening.
The old man lay with his
grave only half filled up. The
pastor went back, finished his
prayer silently, and started
shoveling in earth mixed with
snow.
Gunnar, arms up. shoulders
hunched forward, kept scannins