260 THE VOICES OF THE SEASONS 



freezing as it falls, there is presently a hollow rattle 

 of drops on the new-made crust, and every ice- 

 sheathed branch and twig creaks and tinkles in 

 the wind till the trees drop showers of gems that 

 you can almost hear the glitter of. Sometimes 

 when one sets foot on such a crust it seems as if 

 the whole surface of a great field sank slightly, with 

 a sudden resentful crash at the crunch of the first 

 footfall. One's first impression is that he has 

 sprung some immense natural trap, and he holds 

 his breath for an instant in dazed expectation of 

 catastrophe. Another characteristic sound of 

 winter is the settling of "shell ice," when after a 

 great thaw and flood, followed by sudden cold 

 weather, the new ice falls to the level of the sub- 

 siding waters. It drops with startling suddenness, 

 but with a prolonged musical ring very different 

 from the short, flat crack of snow crust, while 

 splinters of the broken edges sUde down the sloped 

 border and far across the lowered level, jingling 

 and clinking as they glide like scattered handfuls 

 of silver coin. 



In the neighborhood of great frozen lakes is often 

 heard one of the wildest sounds of winter and the 

 most unearthly, the booming of the ice, caused by 

 its cracking or by its contracting and expanding, 

 or, as some maintain, by air beneath it. At first a 

 thin, tortured cry arises, faint and far away, 

 growing louder in swift approach, rising at times 



