was not a hill, nor even a
tree, for scores of miles, to break its force as it dashed against our
lonely station. The telegraph wires along the track hummed at
intervals loudly enough to be distinctly heard above the shrieks of
the wind which buffeted and held high carnival along them.
Frozen particles of snow rattled fiercely against the window panes,
carried by the relentless wind, which seemed to me to have conceived
the demoniacal intention of wrecking our not very stalwart but
exceedingly lonely home, out of revenge for daring to break even one
jot of its fury as it hurried madly on. We both lapsed into silence. A
feeling of isolation crept over me despite my efforts to fight it off.
How separated from the world I felt. It seemed to me to have been
years since I had mingled with a crowd. A great longing possessed me
to be away from this lonely spot, and walk the streets of some of the
large cities I had lived in. Unable longer to bear these thoughts, I
rose to go out on to the platform for a moment. No sooner, however,
had I raised the latch of the waiting-room door than the fierce wind
dashed it against me with great force, while the huge snow-drift which
had gathered against it fell upon me, almost burying me out of sight.
Laughingly my companion pulled me from under the chilly and unwelcome
covering.
I returned once more to the operating room, in a more contented frame
of mind, and with a keener appreciation of the comfortable temperature
within. A few minutes after one o'clock, the telegraph instrument,
which had been silent for some time, suddenly woke to life and
commenced imperiously ticking the call of our station. My friend
answered, and received from the dispatcher at Winnipeg a crossing
order for a west-bound passenger train and an east-bound engine. Our
station signal was displayed, and once more we commenced our weary
wait for the two iron horses, which were ploughing their way across
the wild prairie to meet and cross each other at our station, and then
continue their wild journey.
Two o'clock. Still no sign of the trains. We both fell asleep in our
chairs.
I seemed scarcely to have closed my eyes when I was startled by the
shriek of the east-bound locomotive. I glanced at the clock; it was
3.30. I looked at my companion. He seemed frozen with deadly fear.
The next instant he jumped wildly to his feet, rushed to the door, and
gazed out into the blinding storm after the engine. It was nowhere
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