"At two o'clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy slumber by

the ceasing of all motion about me. The appalling truth flashed upon me

instantly--we were captives in a snow-drift! 'All hands to the rescue!'

Every man sprang to obey. Out into the wild night, the pitchy darkness,

the billowy snow, the driving storm, every soul leaped, with the

consciousness that a moment lost now might bring destruction to us all.

Shovels, hands, boards--anything, everything that could displace snow,

was brought into instant requisition. It was a weird picture, that small

company of frantic men fighting the banking snows, half in the blackest

shadow and half in the angry light of the locomotive's reflector.

One short hour sufficed to prove the utter uselessness of our efforts.

The storm barricaded the track with a dozen drifts while we dug one away.

And worse than this, it was discovered that the last grand charge the

engine had made upon the enemy had broken the fore-and-aft shaft of the

driving-wheel! With a free track before us we should still have been

helpless. We entered the car wearied with labor, and very sorrowful.

We gathered about the stoves, and gravely canvassed our situation. We

had no provisions whatever--in this lay our chief distress. We could not

freeze, for there was a good supply of wood in the tender. This was our

only comfort. The discussion ended at last in accepting the

disheartening decision of the conductor, viz., that it would be death for

any man to attempt to travel fifty miles on foot through snow like that.

We could not send for help, and even if we could it would not come. We

must submit, and await, as patiently as we might, succor or starvation!

350

Sketches New and Old