rubbed his eyes,
and stared round him aghast. Where have you got to? have you lost your
way? Where is Lenz's house? He turned round and round, but could not
understand where he was. Stop! there are the old firs that stand just
in front of Lenz's house; but the house! the house! In his anguish of
mind, Faller slipped into a snow wreath, and the more he struggled to
extricate himself, the deeper he plunged in. He prayed to God, he cried
for help--no one heard him. He managed to get hold of the trunk of a
tree and to cling to the branches, for he could get no further; then a
fresh avalanche came rolling down the hill, and carried the snow with
it in its course, and Faller was free. And this last rush of snow
having cleared the pathway, he hurried down into the valley. By the
time he saw light glancing from the house, night had set in, and with
shouts which quickly roused even those who were asleep, Faller cried
aloud through the village: "Help! help!"

All hurried to their windows, and out into the street, when Faller
declared that Lenz's house at the Morgenhalde was buried in the snow.

Faller rushed to the church, and rang the alarm bell. Very few people
came from a distance; the weather was so dreadful, that the wind did
not carry the sound of the alarm bell far.

Pilgrim and the Techniker were the first to arrive at the church door.
There was no end to lamentations at this frightful occurrence,
especially at night, and in such a hurricane. Pilgrim could not utter,
he seemed frozen with horror.

The Techniker acted like a prompt and gallant young man. "Get ladders
and ropes instantly," said he, "collect as many as you can, and shovels
and hatchets."

Torches were lighted, while the storm, however, blew about wildly. Some
women came also. They had tied their gowns over their heads as a
shelter against the storm, and it was a strange sight to see these
spectral looking figures, clinging to their husbands and sons, in the
red light of the torches, and endeavouring to prevent their going to
the rescue, from the fear of their being lost in the snow.

The Techniker wound the end of a long rope round his body--he assumed
the command at once--and ordered six men, at considerable distances, to
bind themselves together, so that they might not have to seek each
other, and might be able mutually to assist each other out of a snow
wreath, if they fell into one.

Pilgrim formed one of the band, and Don Bastian also offered to