Raymond S. Spears

“ French Louie heard the storm kick itself out of the country, and he went out to see the clouds withdraw from the face of the sky. He saw the stars peeping through the holes. He retreated into his warm wigwam before the chill frost that fell upon the earth and polished the crystal mantle which draped the forest in a robe of death.
Dawn followed, and with dawn arrived a light wind. The breeze touched the timber and swayed the crystals back and forth. Crystal touched crystal, and the bells began to ring! Every limb was cased in ice, and the ice was like bell-metal—it was bell-metal! ”

“ Not a bird appeared among the branches, not an animal showed itself upon the blue ice that covered the snow. Till wild life broke its way up into the world again it was no time for a human to stir abroad.
On the third night French Louie was awakened by a distant sound. He lay with one ear out of his rabbit-skin blanket, listening. Soon he sat up to listen the better. That was not enough, so he bounded up out of his warm bed and crawled outside of his wigwam, where the frost was snapping and the stars were sparkling. ”

“ French Louie had a great deal to think about in that lengthening way from his second wigwam to his third, for the miles that he covered were three times as difficult as in cold weather, when the snowshoes did not load. In the wet snow he sank much deeper than even in loose, newly fallen snow. He toiled on, slower and slower, the spring gone from his knees and the flow of words whispered under his breath.
"I am growin' old," he thought. "My muscles are stiff. A mile more, but it is dark, and my pack is heavy. ”