Buried in the Snow Read Free Page A

irresolute: the storm without, howled and raved furiously, driving before it fresh clouds of snow, which shortly would render the descent impracticable. Upon the preservation of his herd depended the maintenance of his family: a speedy abatement of the storm could not be counted upon. It was truly a sad and painful position: on one side, the loss of his sole possessions; on the other, the desertion, if only for a day, of his helpless father, upon this rough, inhospitable height: he could not leave him. Again he insisted that the old man should trust himself to his strong shoulders; but no persuasions could tempt him to expose his son and grandson to danger, by becoming a burden to them.
    In these friendly altercations passed several hours of the day, when Jacques made a proposal which brought them to a decision.
    “Let me remain with grandfather, in the chalet, and you, father, take the herd down the mountain; you will reach home much sooner than with either of us, and then you can come back with our neighbors for us; grandfather will not be so lonely, and I can wait upon him: it was through my thoughtlessness that this misfortune has come upon us, and now I have an opportunity of showing him that I am truly sorry, and can thus prove my love for him. Go, father, go: why do you hesitate? ‘God, even our own God, will be with us.’”
    “The child is right, François; his plan is the wisest and best: the snow is already so deep, and the wind so fearful, that I fear the danger would be greater, did he accompany you, than were he to remain with me in the chalet. Go, my son, delay no longer: take with you my stick; it is strong, and the iron point is new and firm; it will help you down, as it has helped me up; leave with us one goat and the provisions which remain. I feel more anxiety about you, than about Jacques and myself.”
    For some moments François stood silent and undecided, until at length, feeling convinced that further opposition would only increase the evil, he determined, hard though it was, to leave his dear ones in the lonely, yet at least sheltered chalet.
    “So be it, then,” said he, while he tearfully embraced the brave old man. “We have lost one opportunity, by not going down with Pierre, and I must endeavor to remedy the neglect if possible. I will at once, upon my descent, summon the neighbors, and with their aid, and the blessing of the good God, will rescue you right speedily from your perilous situation.”
    “God help you, my son,” replied the aged man, with a sweet expression of quiet repose. “Go in peace, my son, and may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.”
    For the last time François embraced his father, then hastened to drive the herd out of the stable, Jacques following to render him assistance. The cattle appeared to be surprised when they found the ground covered with snow: they stood for a moment dismayed and confused, but the well-known call of the herdsman soon brought them in motion, and knowing they were going home, they sportively ran hither and thither around the little chalet, causing him some trouble in bringing them together again; that accomplished, the father once more kissed his boy and pressed him tenderly to his heart.
    “God protect you both. Watch over thy grandfather as carefully and lovingly as thou canst, and be not too solicitous [1] about the future: if God grant that I reach our home in safety, thou wilt, in a few days at farthest, be relieved: be patient, courageous, and hopeful, my son; God have thee in his gracious keeping.”

    “And you too, father,” sobbed the boy, while he broke out into tears, and pressed a farewell kiss upon his parent’s lips.
    François gently withdrew himself from the child’s embrace, and herd and herdsman disappeared amid the whirling clouds of snow. Jacques sought in vain to penetrate the thick, flaky veil; a last call of farewell reached his listening ear, faintly above the wind howlings of the tempest, and