be one,
but the Techniker told him to place himself at the head of another
chain of men.

They took some dry wood with them to light a fire, and provided with a
number of hatchets, shovels, and ladders, they set off up the hill.
When they arrived at about fifty paces from the house--they could not
get any nearer--a space was cleared of the snow in a sheltered spot,
and a fire lighted. The ladders were placed against the mountain of
snow, but they sunk in as soon as a man got on them; moreover the wind
blew out the torches, and at intervals a cry was heard: "I am sinking!"
Every kind of attempt was made, but all failed.

"Nothing can be done at night, and in such a storm," was the universal
cry; at last it was resolved they should all go home; one watchman was
to be left beside the fire. Faller immediately offered to remain, and
Pilgrim wished also to stay, but the Techniker saw that his teeth were
chattering from cold, and he insisted on taking him home, consoling him
by saying, that if the inhabitants of the house on the Morgenhalde were
still alive, help would be quite time enough in the morning.

In the village the report quickly spread, that Petrowitsch must be
buried along with them in the snow, as he had gone to Lenz's house that
morning, and had not returned; his comrade Ibrahim, when he heard the
alarm bell, had run into the street with a pack of cards in his hand
saying: "I am waiting for Petrowitsch." Pilgrim said to his new friend:
"It would indeed be sad, if Petrowitsch at last resolved to assist
Lenz, and lost his life on that account."

Pilgrim reproached himself severely for having spent the whole day in
childish games with Wilhelm, for a kind of presentiment had drawn him
towards the Morgenhalde--a sensation as if some misfortune had happened
there; but he had persuaded himself that this feeling was purely
imaginary, and had gone on playing with his godson; now he sat beside
the child's bed till his eyes almost closed from fatigue, thinking how
little the boy, who was sleeping soundly, anticipated what a misfortune
this night might bring on his head--indeed perhaps had already brought
on him.

Faller remained at his post like a soldier on the field, and a comrade
stood with him--a dial maker, who had once been a sapper and miner.
They held a council together how this snow fortress was to be stormed,
but they could discover no mode of setting to work. Faller in the mean
time stirred and replenished