Atlung shouted up to them: "We must search the whole park through; we will begin with the housemen's places." And he came toward the bank, climbed up and helped his wife up after him. They were met by Stina. "My dear, dear lady!" she whispered, beseechingly; but neither of the parents paid any attention to her. I stared into the ravine below us. To look down on snow-laden trees from above is like gazing on a petrified forest. "Dear Atlung! will not you call?" begged the wife. He took a position far in advance of the rest; all became still. And then he called aloud through the wood, slowly and distinctly: "Anton and little Storm! Come home to papa and mamma! Papa is no longer angry!" Was it the air thus set in motion, or did the last flake of snow needed to break an overladen branch fall just then, or had some one come into contact with such a branch; suffice it to say, Atlung received for an answer the snow-fall from a large bough, partly at one side, partly in front of us. It gave a hollow crash, rousing the echoes of the wood, the bough swayed to and fro, and rose to its place, and snow was showered over us. But this swaying motion finally caused all the heavy branches to loose their burdens; crash followed crash, and snow enveloped us; before we knew what was coming the nearest tree had cast the burden from all its branches at once. The atmospheric pressure now became so great that two more, then five, six, ten, twenty trees freed themselves, with violent din, from their heavy loads, sending an echo through the wood and a mist as from mighty snow-drifts. This was followed by cluster after cluster of trees, some at our sides, some at a long distance off, some right in front of us; the movement first passed through two great arms, which gradually spread into manifold divisions; ere long the whole forest trembled. The thunder rolled far away from us, close by us, now at intervals, now all at once, and seemed interminable. Before us everything was surrounded by a white mist; this loud rumbling of thunder through the wood had at first appalled us; gradually as it passed farther on and grew in proportion it became so majestic that we forgot all else. The trees stood once more proudly erect, fresh and green; we ourselves looked like snow-men. All the lanterns were extinguished, we lighted them again, and we shook the snow from us. Then we heard in a moaning tone: "What if the little boys are lying under a snow-drift!"