WINTER IN THE BACKWOODS 267 



refused to move. Though an admonitory voice 

 forbade me, yet I shook off its influence and 

 struck the horse with the whip ; the only result 

 was his trembling that shook the buggy. I then 

 cautiously stepped out, and found myself on the 

 brink of a precipice ; another yard would have 

 been certain death. 



The atmosphere became more and more op- 

 pressive and it was difficult to breathe. A sickly 

 kind of warmth seemed to pass over us in clouds 

 occasionally changing to a sense of icy coldness. 

 Then this extraordinary phenomenon disappeared, 

 and it was followed by another awful silence. 

 All surrounding space was hushed ; organic and 

 inorganic matter seemed to respond to a powerful 

 command. We did not speak, we knew full 

 well what was coming. At first, sounds were 

 faintly heard that would be impossible for me to 

 describe. One might have fancied an express 

 train was rushing toward us, followed by numerous 

 others that had become derailed and were tearing 

 a path through mountain, rock, and forest. It 

 was the approaching cyclone. Trees, rocks, earth, 

 and snow were hurled along during its terrible 

 progress, and we stunned, deafened, and scared 

 lay at full length upon the ground. This 



