thing, -- of the cattle, of the chance for being
buried in this drift, of the stock of provi-
sions, of the power of endurance of the
children. While she was still thinking, the
first ice-needles of the blizzard came pepper-
ing the windows. The cattle ran bellowing
to the lee side of the house and crouched
there, and the chickens scurried for the coop.
Catherine seized such blankets and bits of
carpet as she could find, and crammed them
at windows and doors. Then she piled coal
on the fire, and clothed the children in all
they had that was warmest, their out-door gar-
ments included; and with them close about
her, she sat and waited. The wind seemed
to push steadily at the walls of the house.
The howling became horrible. She could
see that the children were crying with fright,
but she could not hear them. The air was
dusky; the cold, in spite of the fire, intol-
erable. In every crevice of the wretched
structure the ice and snow made their way.
It came through the roof, and began piling
up in little pointed strips under the crevices.
Catherine put the children all together in
one bunk, covered them with all the bed-
clothes she had, and then stood before them
defiantly, facing the west, from whence the
wind was driving. Not suddenly, but by
steady pressure, at length the window-sash