ssembled in
vast flocks, mingling their cries with the howling of the wind.

The shepherd boys hastily assembled their sheep, and began to drive
them home. Scarcely had they proceeded a few hundred yards, however,
when the horizon had completely darkened, the snow fell thickly,
driven about by the wind, and in a few moments the path which guided
them was covered. Meanwhile, the cold had sensibly increased, the
ground was soon frozen quite hard, and the boys had lost all traces
of their homeward way--they ran hither and thither, listening, and
looking around them. No glimmering light was to be seen, nor the
barking of a dog to be heard. Night had come on, and they had strayed
into the puszta!

What was to be done? It was impossible to drive the sheep farther, for
they crowded all in a heap, with their heads together.

"We will do like the sheep," said the herd-boys; and spreading their
Izurok[38] upon the ground, they lay down close to one another,
endeavouring by the heat of their bodies to keep out the frost: and
thus, with their arms clasped tightly round each other, they awaited
the long stormy night, during which the snow never ceased an instant,
and soon covered them both.

[Footnote 38: The peasant's mantle of coarse white flannel.]

Pista--so one of them was called--could not close his eyes all night:
he heard the cries of the ravens incessantly above his head, and the
roaring of the storm, which seemed hushed at intervals only to burst
out more furiously, like the wrath of some huge monster, while the
chill blast seemed to pierce him through, and turn his blood to ice.
But his comrade Gyuri slept soundly, although he continually called in
his ear in order to awake him; for he feared to listen to his heavy
snoring, and to be alone awake. At length the sleeper ceased to snore,
and breathed quietly for a time, till by degrees the breathing too
became fainter and fainter.

When at last the fearful night had passed, and the clouds of snow had
cleared away, and day began to break upon the hoary world, Pista tried
to rise and wake his companion, who was still sound asleep, and kept
his arms clasped tightly round his neck; but all his exertions could
not wake him.

"Gyuri, awake!" he cried, shaking the sleeper; but Gyuri did not
wake.

"Gyuri, awake!" he repeated in terror; but Gyuri's sleep was an
eternal one--the boy was frozen.

When Pista saw that his comrade was dead, he tried in vain to release
himsel