The Young Colonists: A Story of the Zulu and Boer Wars

“I cannot go any farther,” he murmured. “I am so cold, and so tired, and so sleepy.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Dick said. “Here, take hold of his arm, Tom, and lift him up; give him a good shake; he must go on; he would die if he stopped here.”

The two lads raised the younger boy, and half-supporting half-dragging him turned and retraced their footsteps.

It was pitch dark now, and they could not see a yard before them. For some time they continued their way.

“There is no shepherd’s hut. Certainly, this is not the valley. What on earth are we to do?”

“I don’t know,” Tom said, beginning to cry.

“Shut up, Tom Jackson. What are you thinking about? This is no time for howling like a baby; you have got to think of what is best to do. It is no use climbing the next hill, for we might be going away from home, instead of getting nearer. Besides, we should have to haul Jimmy up, for he can scarcely stand now; and, although it is bitterly cold here, it would be worse on the top of the hill. No, we have got to step here all night, that is clear.”

“We shall be dead before morning!” Tom roared.

“I will hit you in the eye, Tom Jackson, if you don’t shut up; you are as bad as a girl; I am ashamed of you. Now, what we have got to do, is to find some sort of shelter, either a wall or bush, and we must keep on until we come to something. Keep awake, Jimmy; we shan’t have much farther to go, and then you can lie down quietly.”

They went on for a bit.

“It is no use,” Dick said. “They don’t put walls across bottoms; more likely to find one either to the right or left. Now, Tom, you stop here for a minute or two, and I will look about; you keep shouting every minute, so that I can find my way back to you.”

Turning off, he began to ascend the next hill, and in two or three minutes shouted the glad news to Tom that he had found the wall; then he returned.

Jimmy, cheered at the prospect of lying down, made an effort, and they soon reached the wall.

Like most of the walls in Derbyshire, it was formed of flat stones laid without mortar, some four feet high.

“Now, Tom, set to work; get some stones off the wall on both sides, and build up two other walls against this; three feet wide inside will do, and just long enough to lie in. Here, Jimmy, you help; it will keep you awake, and, you see, the higher we make the walls the snugger it will be; we will have quite a nice house.”

The boys all set to work, and in half an hour three walls were built. At the point where the two side walls touched the other, they were three feet high, and sloped down to two at the lower end.

“Now, Jimmy, you chuck the snow out. Tom and I will go, one each way, along the wall; likely enough we may come upon some bushes – they often grow in shelter of the walls: if we can find a few sticks we will cover the house over. Lots of these stones are a couple of feet long, and we will manage a sort of roof. The snow will soon cover it, and we shall be as warm as possible.”

A quarter of an hour later the two boys returned; both had been successful and brought a bundle of sticks; these were laid across the top, interspersed with smaller twigs, the ends being kept down with stones to prevent their being blown away. The last were placed in position after the boys had crept inside. They did not attempt to roof it with stones, for the supply of sticks and brushwood was large enough to catch the snow-flakes as they fell, and these would soon form a covering, while it would have been difficult to balance the stones.

Jimmy was by this time in a state almost of lethargy; but the others were fairly warm from their exertions. They now lay down close beside the younger boy, one on each side. At first they felt the cold extremely.

“Let us keep awake as long as we can,” Dick said.

“I don’t feel inclined to sleep at all,” Tom answered; “my hands and feet feel frozen, but I am warm enough everywhere else, and the ground is precious hard and bumpy.”

“I am only afraid about Jimmy,” Dick said; “he is sound asleep, and he was so awfully cold; lie as close as you can to him, Tom, and put your arm over him and keep your legs huddled up against his.”

“It feels warmer than it did,” he went on, after a pause of half an hour; “don’t you think so, Tom?”

“A lot warmer,” Tom said. “I expect the snow has made a good thick roof.”

“Yes, and the wind does not blow through the stones as it did. I expect the snow is drifting up all round; it was getting very deep against the wall when we got in, and if it goes on all night, Tom, I should not wonder if we are covered deep before morning. The wind always sweeps it off the hills, and makes deep drifts in the bottoms.”

“What shall we do, then?”

“I don’t know,” Dick answered; “but there will be plenty of time to think of that in the morning. I think Jimmy is all right, Tom; I have just put my hand inside his waistcoat and he feels quite warm now. Say your prayers, and then let us try to get off to sleep.”

This they were not very long in doing, for the air in the little hut was soon heated by the action of their bodies. Outside the storm was still raging, and the wind, laden with swirling snow from the uplands, was piling it high in the valleys. Already the hut was covered and the wall behind it.

All night and all next day the snow continued to fall; the next day, and the next, it kept on. Old folks down in Castleton said they never remembered such a storm. It lay three feet deep in the fields, and there was no saying how deep the drifts might be in the hollows. For the first two days the wind had tried its best to keep the hills clear, but it had tired of the work, and for the last two had ceased to blow, and the great feathered flakes formed steadily and silently.

Tom was the first to wake.

“Holloa!” he exclaimed, “where are we? Oh! I remember. Dick, are you awake?”

“Yes, I am awake now,” Dick said. “What is it? It is not morning yet. I seem to have been asleep a long time, and don’t my bones just ache? Jimmy, old boy, are you all right?”

“Yes,” Jimmy grunted.

“It is quite warm,” Dick said. “It feels very close, and how still it is! The wind has quite gone down. Do you know, Tom, I think it must be morning. There seems a faint sort of light. I can see the stones in the wall behind you.”

“So it must,” Tom assented. “Oh! how stifling it is!” and he raised himself into a sitting position.

“I am afraid we are buried deep in the snow-drift. Put your hand up, Tom; don’t you feel some of these sticks are bent in the middle?”

“Ever so much; there must be a great weight on them. What are we to do, Dick; shall we try and dig a way out?”

“That will be no good,” Dick answered; “not if it is deep; and if it has been snowing all night, there is no saying how deep it may be this morning down in this bottom. This drift-snow is like dust. I remember last winter that Bill Jones and Harry Austin and I tried to make a tunnel in a deep drift, but the snow fell in as fast as we scraped it away. It was just like dry sand.”

“We are all right for warmth,” Tom said; “but it feels quite stifling.”

“Yes, we must try and get some air,” Dick said. “The roof-sticks are close together down at our feet. There were three or four left over when we had finished, so we can take them away without weakening the roof. We might shove one of them up through the snow.”

The sticks were removed carefully, but a quantity of fine snow fell in on their feet. One was then shoved up through the top, but the only effect, when it was removed, was that it was followed by some snow powdering down on their faces.

“Let us tie four of them together,” Dick said. “I have plenty of string in my pocket.”

This was done, fresh sticks being tied to the bottom as the first were shoved up through the snow.

“Now, Tom, help me to work it about a bit, so as to press the snow all round, and make a sort of tube.”

For some time a shower of little particles fell as they worked, but gradually these ceased. Then the stick was cautiously lowered, being untied joint by joint, and looking up the boys gave a shout of pleasure. At the top of the hole, which was some six inches wide at the bottom, was a tiny patch of light.

“We have only just reached the top,” Dick said; “the snow must be near fifteen feet deep.”

Small though the aperture was, it effected a sensible relief. The feeling of oppression ceased; half an hour later the hole was closed up, and they knew that the snow was still falling.

Another length of stick was added, and the daylight again appeared.

The boys slept a good deal; they had no sensation of cold whatever, the heat of their bodies keeping the air at a comfortable temperature. They did not feel so hungry as they expected, but they were very thirsty.

“I shall eat some snow,” Tom said.