Its warmth was very
necessary, for it was bitterly cold and damp. I had brought with me a
hammock made of twine; this I slung in the driest corner, and after
supper I turned in and was soon asleep. The faculty of sleep is an
immense comfort. A man may put it high up on the credit side in striking
the balance of good and evil in his lot.
When I awoke the next morning, I found that the weather was worse than
ever. The mist was so dense that the Wallack guide said it was perfectly
impossible to go on, in fact we might consider ourselves lucky if we
were able to get back without mischance. Not to be daunted, I waited
till nearly noon, thinking it was possible that the mist might rise, and
restore to us the bright skies of yesterday. A change came, but not the
one we hoped for. The cold rain turned into snow, so it would have been
sheer madness to think of going on.
We were in a wretched plight, crowded together in the corner of the
ruined hut, and snow as well as "light" came in "through the chinks that
time had made." Owing to a change in the wind, the smoke of the fire
outside drifted in; and there was evidence of a worse drift--that of the
snow, which before nightfall I daresay may have buried the cottage out
of sight.
I now gave orders for returning, and just as I stepped out of the hut,
or was in the act of leaving, one of the heavy beams from the roof fell
upon me; it caught me on the back of my head--a pretty close shave! The
ride back, with the consciousness of having failed to attain the object
I had in view, was depressing.
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