CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT THE EXPECTED BLIZZARD
The threatening blizzard broke over the Sierra Nevadas about sundown,and for three days it raged. Ken seemed to be hilariously excited, andDixie, Carol, and Sylvia wondered about it. The snow, which hadcommenced falling the first night, did not cease, and had it not beenthat the lad worked untiringly with a shovel, the animals and hens wouldhave been without food.
At last Dixie suggested that the lean-to shed, which was back of thekitchen, should be occupied by the three hens, the small pig, and thegoat.
"Topsy and the two kittens can come in with us. I always make her a bedback of the stove when the winter storms come," the little motherexplained to Sylvia.
"But what shall you do with Pegasus?" that small maiden asked.
That was indeed a problem. "We didn't have our burro last winter," Dixsaid. Then she added, "What _shall_ we do with him, Ken? When the snowpiles up half-way to the top of the house, you can't keep a pathshoveled out to the barn. We'll just have to bring Pegasus insomewhere."
The lad rubbed his ear, which was stinging with the cold, for he had butrecently come in from the storm. "I dunno," he finally conceded, "unlesswe put him in the lean-to shed and tie him up in one corner. Then we cansort of fence off the three other corners and put the goat in one andthe hens in the other, and Blessing in the last."
How Sylvia laughed. "I never had so much fun before in all my life," sheconfessed. Monday came and although the storm was not raging quite asfuriously as it had been, still the four children could not attempt togo to school, nor did Miss Bayley expect them. Ken was very restless,and kept listening, as though he expected to hear some sound besides themoaning and whistling of the wind. Too, he would stand for fifteenminutes at a time straining his eyes through the dusk, watching,watching up the trail.
"Ken Martin, you act so queer!" Carol said at last. "Whatever are youlooking out of the window for? You've seen the ground covered with snowlots of times before, haven't you? Come on over here and help us teaseDixie to let us make some popcorn balls."
The boy turned reluctantly back into the room, and, at the suggestion ofhis older sister, he brought forth a few ears of corn, which thelaughing "twins," as they now called Sylvia and Carol, began to shell.Then he procured the old-fashioned, long-handled popper, and fiveminutes later he was shaking this over a bed of red coals in the stove.The little town girl, who had never seen corn popped, stood with an armabout her best friend, watching with great interest. The kernels werebursting merrily into downy white puffs when Ken suddenly stoppedshaking and listened intently. There was a prolonged dismal whistle ofthe wind down the chimney. That was all the girls heard, but Ken wassure that he had heard something else. "Here, Dix," he said, as he heldthe handle of the popper toward her, "you take this. I want to gooutside and listen." The oldest girl complied, and the lad, putting onhis heavy cap and coat, and lighting his lantern, opened the door. Agust of cold wind and sleet swept into the kitchen. Carol and Sylviasprang to push the door shut, and, as they did so, the wide flame in thekerosene lamp flickered as though it would go out, but a moment later itsteadied and shone on the puzzled faces of the three little girls.
"Dix," Carol said, "brother's been acting awfully queer of late, don'tyou think so? He seems to be expecting somebody, and yet who in theworld could it be? There's nobody coming to visit us, is there?"
The older sister smiled. Ken had thought best to take her into hisconfidence, since he had offered the loft to his friend. She had assuredhim that he had done the right thing, but she did hope that Ken's friendwould not come until Sylvia had returned to Genoa. The littlehousekeeper didn't know how they would all find places to sleep, but sheremembered that Grandmother Piggins had often said, "Don't step over astile till you come to it."
The corn had been popped till it filled a big yellow bowl, but Ken hadnot returned. Dixie carried the lamp to the window nearest the canyontrail. She was sure that she saw the lantern far off among the pinetrees, but, as she watched, it disappeared. Then a sudden blast of windroaring past the cabin told her that the storm was again increasing infury. Why didn't Ken come in, she wondered. Perhaps an uprooted tree hadpinned him under. Perhaps she ought to go and find him.
When she arrived at this decision, she placed the lamp on the table bythe window and went quietly to the loft to get her heavy coat and hood.
When Dixie ran out of the log cabin into the storm which was increasingin fury, she was at first so blinded by the stinging snow that she couldsee nothing. Then, when she had pulled her hood down in a way thatsheltered her eyes, and had gathered the folds of her cloak tightlyabout her, she stood on the narrow path which Ken had shoveled a fewhours before, and gazed through the dense blackness up toward the canyonroad.
Again she saw a glimmer of light, as though it might be a lantern. WasKen swinging it, hoping to attract her attention?
Believing that she had guessed aright, the small girl began battling theelements, and slowly she ascended the trail that led to the road. Nowand then she stumbled over covered rocks, and at last reached the deep,unbroken snow, for Ken had not tried to shovel a path up the steep trailto the highway, and his own foot-prints had been hidden quickly by thestorm.
Luckily the dim light of the lantern appeared again, and the girl headeddirectly for it. During a lull, she was sure she heard her brother call.After all, she feared that her surmise, that a falling tree had pinnedhim down, was correct, otherwise he surely would have returned to thecabin. It was at least half an hour since he had started out in searchof he knew not what.
She stood still once more and listened. Again she heard the sound, andthis time she knew it was her brother hallooing.
"Ken! Ken!" she shouted. "I'm coming! I'm 'most there!"
Then, as she paused to listen, she was sure that she heard an answeringcry, though it seemed faint and far. Breaking through a dense growth ofdwarf pines, to her great joy she saw, in a circle of light from thelantern a short distance above her, the erect form of a boy, whichproved to her that at least her brother was unhurt. But as she hastenedforward, she saw him lean over something that looked like a log. Thegirl knew that it must be the figure of a man. "Oh, Ken," she cried assoon as she was near enough to be heard, "who is it out in all thisblizzard?"
"It's Mr. Edrington. He 'twas that was hallooing when I first heard acall. He had to leave camp, for his shelter blew away, and he couldn'tmake a fire, for the matches were all wet. He tried to find the easytrail down the mountain, but the snow had covered it. He missed the wayand fell right over the cliff. He's got grit all right, Mr. Edringtonhas! He sort of dragged himself here. When I came, though, he'd peteredall out, but he told me that much before he--he--"
The girl had knelt on the snow, and was listening to the man's heart."It's only a faint he's in," she said, looking up at the lad. "If we rubhis face and hands with snow, perhaps it will help him to come to."
"Dix, you're a brick!" the boy exclaimed admiringly. Then hopefully theydid as the girl had suggested, watching anxiously the pale face uponwhich the light of the lantern shone. The wind had subsided, as it didperiodically, and there was a strange silence under the pine trees. Too,the moon appeared through a rift in the clouds, making a beautifulpicture of the wide, glistening canyon, while near by, the pine branchesbent low under the weight of gleaming snow.
__To the great relief of the boy and girl the young engineer slowlyopened his eyes; then he looked about with a puzzled expression. SeeingKen, he smiled. "I say, where am I, old man?" he asked. Turning, he sawDixie, and he sat up as though startled.
"It's only my sister, Mr. Edrington," Ken explained. "She's grown a lotsince you saw her last."
"Of course," the young man laughed as he took the girl's hand. "I musthave been dreaming. I thought you were Marlita Arden. Oh, I remembernow. I fell over the cliff, didn't I? Wonder if any bones are broken.Give a lift, Ken, and I'll soon find out."
With the aid of the stro
ng boy and girl, the stalwart young man stood onhis feet, and was indeed pleased to find that he could walk withoutpain.
However, he quickly put his hand to his head.
"That's where I hit when I landed, I guess," he said, trying to speaklightly. He staggered as he walked, and was glad indeed when the cabinwas reached and he found himself lying on Ken's bed in the small roomadjoining the kitchen.
Carol had put another stick on the fire and had filled the teakettle.Dixie praised her small sister for her thoughtfulness. How glad, glad,that little mother was when she realized that Carol was beginning tothink of others.
As the older girl prepared a hot beverage for their unexpected guest,she was wondering where her brother would sleep. Surmising this, the ladtold her he'd fold a quilt and sleep on the floor near the stove. "Iraand I slept on the hard ground for a week when we were off wood-cuttingfor his dad," he concluded.
Dixie went to bed that night with a strange feeling--a premonitionperhaps--that something unusual was about to happen. Nor was she wrong.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 39
