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We
could hear the crash and thunder of falling trees.
'Make haste! Make haste! It's resky here,' said Uncle Eb, and he
held my hand and ran. We started through the brush and steered as
straight as we could for the clearing. The little box of light he
carried was soon sheathed in snow, and I remember how he
stopped, half out of breath, often, and brushed it with his mittens
to let out the light. We had made the scattering growth of little
timber at the edge of the woods when the globe of the lantern
snapped and fell. A moment later we stood in utter darkness. I
knew, for the first time, then that we were in a bad fix.
'I guess God'll take care of us, Willy,' said Uncle Eb. 'If he don't,
we'll never get there in this world never!'
It was a black and icy wall of night and storm on every side of us. I
never saw a time when the light of God's heaven was so utterly
extinguished; the cold never went to my bone as on that bitter
night. My hands and feet were numb with aching, as the roar of the
trees grew fainter in the open.


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