The Angler's Story 59 



walked on. He stopped but once in several 

 hours, and then only for food. The child had 

 been crying for a long time, and he knew the 

 reason ; he had put it on half rations ; there was 

 not enough milk in the can to last with close 

 economy for six meals more, and he was holding 

 on to the chocolate, not eating it himself, as a 

 last resort. 



Night came quickly. He stopped long enough 

 to feed the child, trying it with chocolate, but 

 in rain. He did not even attempt to talk to it, 

 there was not time; it must cry itself to sleep, 

 he must push on and on, eternally on. 



By midnight he reached a level valley filled 

 with trees splendid spectres covered with snow. 

 They seemed figures grasping at him, as he 

 passed and brushed the limbs aside, silhouetted 

 against the sky in which steel facets seemed set 

 in countless millions. A peculiar numbness be- 

 gan in his knees and crept slowly upward. It 

 was like some deadly stupor, only it did not rise 

 in the brain. He sprang forward with renewed 

 energy as it swept over him, trying to throw it 

 off, not realizing that it was the summing up 

 of terrible physical strain; then, stopping, he 

 unslung his burden, placed it upon the snow, 

 and in a frenzy began to rub his legs, toppling 

 over from sheer weakness and rolling several 

 feet as though wrestling with some unseen 

 monster. 



