These Happy Golden Years (Little House 8)

It had been right to tell Almanzo Wilder the truth, but she wished that she had not done it so soon. Still, he would not have come so far in such bitter cold, anyway. Every moment the wind blew stronger, and colder.

At half past three they were all so cold that she thought of dismissing school early. The mile that Martha and Charles must walk, worried her. On the other hand, she should not cut short the pupils’ opportunity for learning, and this was not a blizzard.

Suddenly she heard sleigh bells. They were coming! In a moment they were at the door. Prince and Lady passed the window, and Clarence exclaimed, “That Wilder’s a bigger fool than I thought he was to come out in this weather!”

“You may all put away your books,” Laura said. It was much too cold for the horses to stand outdoors. “It is growing colder, and the sooner everyone reaches home, the better,” she said. “School is dismissed.”

Chapter 8

Cold Ride

“Careful of the lantern,” was all that Almanzo said as he helped her into the cutter. Several horse blankets were spread over the seat, and on their ends, under the fur buffalo robes, a lantern stood burning to warm the nest for Laura’s feet.

When she ran into the house, Mr. Brewster said, “You aren’t thinking of such a thing as driving in this cold?”

“Yes,” she answered. She lost no time. In the bedroom, she buttoned on her other flannel petticoat, and pulled over her shoes her other pair of woolen stockings. She doubled her thick black woolen veil and wrapped it twice around her face and hood, and wound its long ends around her throat. Over that she put her muffler, crossed its ends on her chest, and buttoned her coat over all. She ran out to the cutter.

Mr. Brewster was there, protesting. “You folks are fools to try it,” he said. “It is not safe. I want him to put up here for the night,” he said to Laura.

“Think you’d better not risk it?” Almanzo asked her.

“Are you going back?” she asked him.

“Yes, I’ve got stock to take care of,” he said.

“Then I’m going,” she said.

Prince and Lady started swiftly into the wind. It struck through all the woolen folds and took Laura’s breath away. She bent her head into it, but she felt it flowing like icy water on her cheeks and chest. Her teeth clenched to keep from chattering.

The horses were eager to go. Their trotting feet drummed on the hard snow and every sleigh bell cheerily rang. Laura was thankful for the speed that would soon reach shelter from the cold. She was sorry when they trotted more slowly. They dropped into a walk, and she supposed that Almanzo was slowing them for a rest. Probably horses must not be driven too hard against such a bitter wind.

She was surprised when he stopped them, and got o

ut of the cutter. Dimly through the black veil she saw him going to their drooping heads, and she heard him say, “Just a minute, Lady,” as he laid his mittened hands on Prince’s nose. After a moment he took his hands away with a scraping motion, and Prince tossed his head high and shook music from his bells. Quickly Almanzo did the same thing to Lady’s nose, and she too, tossed up her head. Almanzo tucked himself into the cutter and they sped on.

Laura’s veil was a slab of frost against her mouth that made speaking uncomfortable, so she said nothing, but she wondered. Almanzo’s fur cap came down to his eyebrows, and his muffler covered his face to his eyes. His breath froze white on the fur and along the muffler’s edge. He drove with one hand, keeping the other under the robes, and often changing so that neither hand would freeze.

The horses trotted more slowly again, and again he got out and went to hold his hands on their noses. When he came back Laura asked him, “What’s the matter?”

He answered, “Their breath freezes over their noses till they can’t breathe. Have to thaw it off.”

They said no more. Laura remembered the cattle drifting in the October blizzard that began the Hard Winter; their breath had smothered them, till they would have died if Pa had not broken the ice from their noses.

The cold was piercing through the buffalo robes. It crept through Laura’s wool coat and woolen dress, through all her flannel petticoats and the two pairs of her woolen stockings drawn over the folded legs of her warm flannel union suit. In spite of the heat from the lantern, her feet and her legs grew cold. Her clenched jaws ached, and two sharp little aches began at her temples.

Almanzo reached across and pulled the robes higher, tucking them behind her elbows.

“Cold?” he asked.

“No,” Laura answered clearly. It was all she could say without letting her teeth chatter. It was not true, but he knew that she meant she was not so cold that she could not bear it. There was nothing to do but go on, and she knew that he was cold, too.

Again he stopped the horses and got out into the wind, to thaw the ice from their noses. Again the bells rang out merrily. The sound seemed as cruel, now, as the merciless wind. Though her veil made a darkness, she could see that the sun was shining bright on the white prairie. Almanzo came back into the cutter.

“All right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“I’ve got to stop every couple of miles. They can’t make more,” he explained.