Árdís - 01.01.1966, Blaðsíða 51

Ársrit Bandalags lúterskra kvenna
49
The drive down to the river had been a pleasant one for Arni.
The going got a trifle heavier as the sun rose higher. Trig ran
alongside the sleigh, joyously barking as he chased the rabbits and
winter birds. This was the life for a dog. After a time Arni got
out of the sleigh and walked a little along the riverbank to limber
up his stiffened muscles. Then he set about filling the barrels,
covering them and tying them securely for the drive home. He notic-
ed that the wind was rising. He could hear it whistling in the tree
tops and now as he listened he could hear the sound changing
to a sort of howl.
“Trig! Here Trig! Come you scamp. We must hurry. We must
try to get home before the storm.”
Reluctantly Trig obeyed and they started off. The road ran
along the river for some distance and consequently the trees
sheltered them from the wind. A bank of dark blue clouds had
risen in the west and was now fairly flying across the sky turning
the daylight into a wierd unreal grey-eeriness. In a few minutes
the wind died down and the air became absolutely motionless.
Arni urged the horses on as fast as they could go in the hope of
getting home before the storm unleashed its fury. Then in a trice
down came the snow, so thick and heavy that he could not see
his horses’ heads. He must be careful now not to lose direction.
He could not see his own mitt when he stretched out his arm. He
was encased in a box, a soundless vacuum, with solid white-grey
walls closing in on him from above as well as from all sides. Not
a breeze was stirring. Never had he been in such fix. He had been
on the ocean in the north of Iceland in storms when the blinding
spray completely hid the bow of the boat which tossed about like
a cork; but there had always been a compass to guide them home
to port. He had been in mountain blizzards on the moors of Ice-
land, but these were always accompanied by strong gales, so if
you were careful you could find your way. This was a new ex-
perience, there was nothing to guide you, no wind and no compass.
He could not even tell when they came to a turn in the road and
stop they must not. They would be snowed under in no time. And
there at the cabin was his little wife and her sister, alone and
miles and miles from anybody, watching and waiting anxiously
for his return.