226 WASTE-LAND WANDERINGS. 



him the snow was still falling. But the storm was at 

 an end, and soon the moon was struggling through the 

 broken clouds, and shone out in all its splendor. All 

 nature was profoundly quiet, and Jemmy asleep. 



Now it so happened that a troop of a dozen snowy 

 owls had been journeying for days, winging their way 

 southward above the storm, and ready to rest, when the 

 breaking clouds gave them sight of mother earth again. 

 They reached the Cross wicks valley when the storm 

 ceased ; and mistaking the ice-bound, snow-clad shallop 

 for some great tree set adrift by the tempest, they chuc- 

 kled to themselves that it offered so good a resting-place, 

 and in the rigging, upon the deck, and directly by the 

 cabin-door, these grave-visaged owls sat, peacefully scan- 

 ning the congenial surroundings, as arctic then as ever 

 they found their native haunts within the polar circle. 



Being silent birds, their scarcely audible chuckling 

 could not have aroused Jemmy from his slumbers, and 

 their promenading about the snow-covered deck could 

 not have reached his muffled ears ; but quite certain it 

 is that he was suddenly roused, and, half-awake, slowly 

 emerged from the cabin. The opening door pushed aside 

 one of the owls ; but no owl was it to Jemmy. He saw 

 two fiery eyes and a mass of snow rise up and settle in 

 the rigging overhead. Completely dazed, Jernmy dared 

 not retreat or advance, until his presence excited the 

 suspicion of the others, and everywhere, as he thought, 

 the snow with fiery eyes was conspiring to crush him. 

 With one mighty leap he reached the wharf and floun- 

 dered, with all the energy of despair, to the house, a 

 hundred rods distant, and uphill at that. With what 



