"If I only could see something with my
eyes," he continued, "that I could take my direction from."
But there was nothing about them but the blinding white, white
everywhere which drew an ever narrowing circle about them, passing,
beyond it, into a luminous mist descending in bands which consumed and
concealed all objects beyond, until there was nothing but the
unceasingly descending snow.
"Wait, Sanna," said the boy, "let us stand still for a moment and
listen, perhaps we might hear a sound from the valley, a dog, or a bell,
or the mill, or a shout, something we must hear, and then we shall know
which way to go."
So they remained standing, but they heard nothing. They remained
standing a little longer, but nothing came, not a single sound, not the
faintest noise beside their own breath, aye, in the absolute stillness
they thought they could hear the snow as it fell on their eyelashes. The
prediction of grandmother had still not come true; no wind had arisen,
in fact, what is rare in those regions, not a breath of air was
stirring.
After having waited for a long time they went on again.
"Never mind, Sanna," said the boy, "don't be afraid, just follow me and
I shall lead you down yet.--If only it would stop snowing!"
The little girl was not faint-hearted, but lifted her little feet as
well as she could and followed him. He led her on in the white, bright,
living, opaque space.
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