The Junior Classics, Volume 7: Stories of Courage and Heroism
History
The Junior Classics, Volume 7: Stories of Courage and Heroism
Children's literature
"Ah," said he, "now I know where we are; it's one mile more." But
one mile, you must remember, meant seven.
Lars checked the horse, and peered anxiously from side to side in
the darkness. I looked also, but could see nothing.
"What is the matter?" I finally asked.
"We have got past the hills, on the left," he said. "The country
is open to the wind, and here the snow drifts worse than anywhere
else on the road. If there have been no ploughs out to-night we'll
have trouble."
You must know that the farmers along the road are obliged to turn
out with their horses and oxen, and plough down the drifts, whenever
the road is blocked up by a storm.
In less than a quarter of an hour we could see that the horse was
sinking in the deep snow. He plunged bravely forward, but made
scarcely any headway, and presently became so exhausted that he
stood quite still. Lars and I arose from the seat and looked around.
For my part, I saw nothing except some very indistinct shapes
of trees; there was no sign of an opening through them. In a few
minutes the horse started again, and with great labour carried us
a few yards farther.
"Shall we get out and try to find the road?" said I.
"It's no use," Lars answered. "In these drifts we would sink to
the waist. Wait a little, and we shall get through this one."
It was as he said. Another pull brought us through the deep part of
the drift, and we reached a place where the snow was quite shallow.
But it was not the hard, smooth surface of the road: we could feel
that the ground was uneven, and covered with roots and bushes.
Bidding Axel stand still, Lars jumped out of the sled, and began
wading around among the trees. Then I got out on the other side,
but had not proceeded ten steps before I began to sink so deeply
into the loose snow that I was glad to extricate myself and return.
It was a desperate situation, and I wondered how we should ever
get out of it.
I shouted to Lars, in order to guide him, and it was not long
before he also came back to the sled. "If I knew where the road
is," said he, "I could get into it again. But I don't know; and I
think we must stay here all night."
"We shall freeze to death in an hour!" I cried. I was already
chilled to the bone. The wind had made me very drowsy, and I knew
that if I slept I should soon be frozen.
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Lars cheerfully. "I am a Norrlander, and
Norrlanders never freeze. I went with the men to the bear-hunt
last winter, up on the mountains, and we were several nights in
the snow. Besides, I know what my father did with a gentleman from
Stockholm on this very road, and we'll do it to-night."
"What was it?"
"Let me take care of Axel first," said Lars. "We can spare him some
hay and one reindeer-skin."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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