The gale was blowing more furiously than ever, and the cold was so intense that it penetrated my thick clothing and caused my teeth to rattle together! "You can be of no use to me," I exclaimed, flinging away the small bag of flour.

"The village can't be far off, and I will find it." Determined to retain my self-possession, I made a careful calculation of the proper course to follow, and plunged into my work with more vigor than ever.

I continually glanced up in quest of the flickering lights, and listened, in the hope of hearing some sound that could guide me, but nothing of the kind was seen or heard, and it was not long before the terrible truth burst upon me that I was lost.
Aye, and lost in a blizzard! The wind had risen almost to a hurricane; the cold cut through the thickest clothing, and the snow struck my face like the prick of millions of needles.

I shouted again, but, convinced that it was a useless waste of strength, I soon ceased.
It was certain death to remain motionless, and almost equally fatal to push on; but there _was_ a possibility that I might strike the right direction, and anything was preferable to remaining idle.

And so, with a desperation akin to despair, I threw all the vigor at my command into my benumbed limbs, and bent every possible energy to the life and death task before me.
The sleet drove against my cheeks with such spiteful and penetrating fierceness that I could make no use of my eyes, I could only bend my head to the blast and labor through the snow, praying that Providence would guide my footsteps in the right direction.
I was plodding forward in this heavy, aimless fashion when I noticed that the violence of the gale was drifting the snow.