A RACE FOR LIFE 123 



head, hitherto sufficient, failing to break the 

 crust, he delivered two more blows in quick suc- 

 cession ; and when these proved of no effect, he 

 saw his danger, and hurried to the next vent- 

 hole, hard by a frozen-in trimmer. One blow, 

 and only one, did he give ; then he dropped the 

 pike, and with lightning - like strokes of his 

 powerful hind-legs made for the open water. It 

 was a race for life, and he knew it. His lungs 

 ached for want of air ; again and again in the 

 next few seconds — seconds that seemed hours — 

 he was on the point of opening his mouth and 

 throat to find an impossible relief, but he forbore, 

 holding on his desperate way, till presently he 

 shot from under the ice-roof and drew breath 

 again in the frosty air. He had escaped drown- 

 ing, but only to be confronted the very next 

 night with difficulties even more aggravated. 



The cold had then reached its greatest inten- 

 sity. The marshman was conscious of its severity 

 as he sat by the fire, listening to the honking of 

 the geese and the trumpeting of the swans — rare 

 sounds, that were music to the aged wild-fowler, 

 and kept him to the chimney-corner later than 

 his wont. Yet at daybreak he was at his lattice 

 to get a view of the overnight arrivals. To his 

 amazement, not a living thing could he see. He 



16—2 



