Toni had long since fled into the hut, but the lightning showed him the
frightful forms and it seemed every minute as if the rolling thunder
would overthrow the hut to the ground. Toni was so alarmed he could
hardly breathe. He climbed up on the table expecting every minute that the
hut would fall and crush him. The storm lasted for hours, and the man
never came over. It was now really night but still the blinding lightning
flashed and new peals of thunder rolled and the storm howled and raged as
if it would sweep the hut away.
Toni stood half the night stiff with fright, clinging to the table, and
with no thought, only a feeling of a frightful power, which was crushing
everything. How he reached his bed he did not know, but in the morning he
lay stretched across the hay, so exhausted he could hardly rise. He looked
anxiously out of the window. How must it look outside after such a night?
Then he went out to see about the cows. The ground was still wet, but the
animals were peacefully grazing.
The sky was gray, and thick, black clouds were passing over it. Gloomy and
frightful the high mountains stood there. They had come so near and
looked more threateningly than ever at Toni.
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