SNOWSLIDES 195 



I made a dash for the top of the woodpile. 

 On the way an enormous rock, frozen to a mass 

 of ice, ripped through the air and smashed off 

 a big spruce just beyond the cabin. Had it 

 struck the cabin only scattered kindling wood 

 would have remained. 



Then came a rush of wind which knocked me 

 off the woodpile. The slide was upon me. 

 Chunks of snow fell about and a wildly whirling 

 cloud of snow-dust hid everything. I clapped a 

 handkerchief over my nose to avoid smothering. 

 There were rushing, rumbling, roaring, and trem- 

 bling. A crash, and in the snow-filled air I saw 

 the flying logs of the cabin. A gust of wind 

 cleared the air as the tail end of the slide went 

 by. Full speed I ran after it; the way was 

 cleared of snow, but I was distanced in a flash. 



The mountain side beyond the canon com- 

 menced to boom, crash, and roar with echoes 

 thick and fast, telling of the stir and intensity 

 of the slide, which was dashing through slide 

 rock, smashing through the woods, ramming 

 cliffs, exploding as it went but never stopping, 

 and giving off enough snow-dust for a wind- 

 storm. 



Yes, the old snow- and ice-field had tipped over 

 and come down to the cabin. The mere edge of 

 the mass had hit the cabin. There must have 

 been four or five thousand tons of snow, ice, 



