I sank down on
the snow with my knees trembling, and I clutched at the grass that
I might not feel that I must even yet slip into that gulf that was
so close, though there was no slope of the ground toward it. Sheer
and sudden it gaped with sharp edges, as the mouth of some monster
that waited for prey.
There on the snow I believe that I should have bided to sleep the
sleep of the frozen, for I hardly dared to move. The snow whirled
round me again, but I did not heed it, and with a great roar the
wind rose and swept up the rift with a sound as of mighty harps,
but it did not rouse me. Only my father's voice came to me again
and called me, and I rose up shaking and followed it as it came
from time to time, until I was once more on the track that I had
lost.
There it left me, but the sadness that had been in its tones was
gone when it last came. And surely that was the touch of no
snowflake that lit on my hand for a moment and was gone.
Now I grew stronger, and the fear of the unseen was no longer on
me, and I battled onward with wind and snow for a long way. Thanks
to the wind, the track was kept clear of the snow, and I did not
lose it again until it led me to help that was unlooked for.
There came the sound of a bell to me, strange sounding indeed, but
a bell nevertheless, and I knew that somewhere close at hand was
surely some home of monks who would take me in with all kindness.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166