the ground to dry raises itself when the wind creeps under it. Smooth as
polished marble slabs, the waves of snow cracked and loosened themselves,
and then suddenly, with the rumbling noise of distant thunder, fell like a
foaming cataract into the abyss. An avalanche had fallen, not upon Rudy
and his uncle, but very near them. Alas, a great deal too near!
“Hold fast, Rudy!” cried his uncle; “hold fast, with all your might.”
Then Rudy clung with his arms to the trunk of the nearest tree, while his
uncle climbed above him, and held fast by the branches. The avalanche
rolled past them at some distance; but the gust of wind that followed, like
the storm-wings of the avalanche, snapped asunder the trees and bushes
over which it swept, as if they had been but dry rushes, and threw them
about in every direction. The tree to which Rudy clung was thus
overthrown, and Rudy dashed to the ground. The higher branches were
snapped off, and carried away to a great distance; and among these
shattered branches lay Rudy’s uncle, with his skull fractured. When they
found him, his hand was still warm; but it would have been impossible to
recognize his face. Rudy stood by, pale and trembling; it was the first shock
of his life, the first time he had ever felt fear. Late in the evening he
returned home with the fatal news,-to that home which was now to be so
full of sorrow. His uncle’s wife uttered not a word, nor shed a tear, till the
corpse was brought in; then her agony burst forth. The poor cretin crept
away to his bed, and nothing was seen of him during the whole of the
following day. Towards evening, however, he came to Rudy, and said, “Will
you write a letter for me? Saperli cannot write; Saperli can only take the
letters to the post.”
“A letter for you!” said Rudy; “who do you wish to write to?”
“To the Lord Christ,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” asked Rudy.
Then the poor idiot, as the cretin was often called, looked at Rudy with a
most touching expression in his eyes, clasped his hands, and said, solemnly
