A TRAVELLER IN A BLIZZARD.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XXVII, Issue 106, 6 May 1893, Page 2

A TRAVELLER IN A BLIZZARD.

Starting on the morning of Jauuary 23, 1803, from a small town on the Northern Pacific branch of the Red River Valley Railway, I was soon making good time in my sleigh over the snow-clad prairie. The morning was clear and fine, and gave every promise of a beautiful clear day. Towards noon the sky was overcast, a few fine flakes of snow began to fall, and ere long the wind began to moan with that dirgeful tone that warned me of a great and sudden atmospheric disturbance. The roads* or rather trails, already heavy with snows would, I knew, soon be blocked with drifts, and reader further progress almost impossible ; so I resolve], with Sootoh caution, to make for the first and nearest shelter. But the fast- rising storm seemed to have gueeaed with fiendish delight my purpose ; for a blast, unusually strong and cutting in its force, caused my horses, despite all forcible persuasion, to veer round and go with the storm. The instinct of the animals was more powerful than man's reason. Keeping, with difficulty, the trail, we floundered along — I oan't use a more appropriate expression — for a few mile?, the storm increasing in. intensity every step. Well olad, as I was, I very well knew that if I did not Boon reach shelter of some kind, my face, hands, and feet would suffer. Only that very morning, I heard of a lumberman who had b. j en logging in the woods, and had, unknown t) himself, fr zoo. both feet so badly aa to necessitate amputation* The- tare thought of such a dire calamity overtaking me urged me to get out of the sleigh and run behind until circulation was well restored. The blinding snow forbade me seeing any distance, and peer as I would, to the right, to the left, or ahead, all was desolation, The prairie presented a cold pitiless appearanoe ; what in any other season of the year looked cheerful and hope* inspiring, was now bleak and dispiriting Suddenly there loomed up something. "Ha!" I thought, "a house at last." But a closer investigation showed that the •' something " was only a haystack, the fruits of some farmer a toil during the summer. My team nearly used up, and darkness coining on, I tossed up whether I would stay there for a little and give the horses a bit of hay, or push on. Chance decreed that I should continue on my way. The presence of the haystack gave me hope, for I reasoned that the farmer who built the stack could not be very far off j but my difficulty was in striking the proper trail. Again the horses showed their instinct;. About half an hour's further •' ploughing" through the anovr, they deposited me safe and sound, albeit tveatber-beaten, in the yard of a Mennonite. With the pare and kindncs3 characteristic of that simpleminded people, I was soon restored to my normal warmth. How thankful one is under such circumstances for even the humblest of shelter, and how grateful one is for tbe genial and kindly waimth of the stove ? Mine host could speak little or no English, but that was immaterial, f<-r his actions spoke louder than words,— Newcastle Journal,