"'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,' sometimes. That is just what we did. We walked on in silence as fast as we could for half an hour. Then we stopped and held a parley. We suddenly awoke from our little dream of foolishness and began to realize that instead of getting out of that storm, we had gotten into it. Up there on that great mountain side we could not see ten feet in any direction. Above us and around us was a raging sea of frozen pellets. The snow was drifting along the track, and in some places it was already completely hidden. Night was coming, and there was no shelter from the swirling winds. In number of miles we were a good deal nearer the summit of the Peak than we were home, and somewhere ahead of us was the old printing station. We would make for it and its shelter—it would be foolish to expose ourselves to the storm by returning in the open valley. Then, too, we might lose our way and slip into the canyon below. We fought on bravely in the dark until finally the wind went down a little and the snow grew soft and wet. Our shoes were wet through and our bodies completely chilled, yet we could not find the printing station. Had we passed it, or was it still ahead. We differed in our opinions.
"Finally the snow ceased, and we could see about us a little by the reflected light. We spied a few straggly trees and made for them, for we were just at timber line. We found a great tree that had blown over, and, breaking limbs from its prostrate trunk, we built a large fire and sat on the log to dry our feet. We were now very keenly alive to our situation, and knew it was becoming serious. We suddenly realized that our only safety depended on the locating of that old printing station. Our shoes were so wet and our feet so cold that the leather burned before we knew it; but, as a real matter of fact, we didn't realize how badly they were burned until an hour later, when the shoes began to crack away in bits and the uppers to rip open along the seams.
"We reached the great snowbanks. The track and roadbed was buried deep. The last straggling trees were far behind. We stood on a great white waste of snow, thirty feet in depth, not a landmark to be seen. If the station was ahead, it was buried; if it was behind, we had missed it. With that realization our spirits fell, for to turn back now meant certain death. Then, to add to our danger, it had begun to turn fearfully cold—that kind of a clear, steady cold that comes only in the mountains, when the thermometer drops twenty-five degrees below zero and the air cuts like a knife, while your nostrils freeze together when you breathe. At the fire we had tied handkerchiefs over our ears and tied strings around our trouser legs to keep the wind and snow out.
"Every little while we sat down and pounded our feet with our walking sticks to keep up the circulation. At last we came to about two feet of a telephone pole sticking up through the snowbank. We knew then that we were off the road and were high up on the mountain. Luckily for us, the snowbanks were so heavily crusted that they held us up without breaking through. John suggested a plan: We would follow the post ends to the Summit House; in that way we could not get lost. Two of us would stop at the tip of one post, while the other, usually John, would push on to find the next one. When it was located he would call and we would go to him. Just how long we traveled in that manner I do not know. It seemed days, but, of course, it was only a brief time. Often I was positive that the posts were at least a half a mile apart. My shoes were so badly cracked at the seams that my feet grew very numb with the cold, and before long I knew I was freezing.
"Time and again we thought we heard something coming over the snow behind us. The air was clear as a bell, and, as we pushed on, this sound frightened us more and more. Our imaginations began to play strange pranks. I remember that I was too frightened to even move, so sometimes I would just stand shivering and listening. We hardly spoke a word. By and by the time came when I was too cold to leave my post for the next one. I just put my arms about it and begged the fellows not to wait for me, but to go on and save themselves; to dig a hole in the snow and leave me in it. But John, dear old John, refused and, putting his arm about me, he dragged me on and on. He tried to make me angry by striking me, and warned me not to go to sleep or I would freeze. But I told him I must sleep, for my feet and legs were numb and my arms and shoulders ached with sharp pains; then I cried like a baby. Soon Al began to play out also, and John plead with him not to give up. Al took me by one arm and John the other, and together they fairly dragged me over the snow.
"When we least expected it, we stumbled over the steps that led to the Summit House. In a few moments we were at the door, but I was helpless. The summit was completely buried, except at one end, where the wind had kept it clear. John hastily examined the windows, only to find that every opening was securely covered with an iron shutter. We were lost! I heard John muttering to himself; then he slipped his fingers under the bottom of the shutter, braced his feet, and pulled with a superhuman strength—the strength of a last hope. With a creak the shutter gave at its fastenings, then bent in the middle, and slipped out. He then knocked out the double window with his elbow and soon had me inside.
"We found candles in a jar, and there was a great wood stove in the room, but no fuel. He didn't hesitate, but went to the counter, removed the shelves from it, and, with a meat cleaver which lay on the table, he cut the shelves, and we soon had a fire. We heard sounds outside, and realized that the something we had heard behind us on the snow was at the window. We were conscious of a presence without being able to see it. John went to the broken window and looked out, but he could see nothing. Soon we heard stealthy steps back and forth on the flat roof above. He barricaded the window, brought snow on the end of a board, and rubbed my face, feet, and legs with it, then wrapped me in tablecloths which he found in the cupboard. Several times he brought a great armful of shelves from the storeroom and cut them up for the stove.
"As soon as the fire was started, Al lay down on the floor and fell into a heavy sleep. We could not waken him, and it frightened us badly. John began to cry, and I think if it had not been for the constant pacing back and forth of the strange animal on the roof we would all have given up. Soon the first streaks of dawn began to show themselves, and with the light the pacing on the roof stopped. John climbed up the tower steps and peered out just in time to see the animal jump from the roof and disappear.
"The house was fairly overrun with rats that scampered in every direction. I thought I had seen rats, mountain rats, but I had never seen any like those. They were so bold we were afraid to sleep, for they were large enough to be dangerous.
"When Al awoke he was very sick and weak. John found a big tin box in the kitchen, and in it were coffee, grapenuts, and the remains of a ham. He melted snow for water, and got us a little breakfast. We were three pretty serious fellows, for we knew only too well how the folks at home would be worrying about us and how near we had come to freezing to death on that great mountain of snow and ice.