As it grew steeper, the snow became knee-deep, and the men helped the
little horse, which often coughed, tossing its thick head up and down, as
if working a churn. Once, when the poor creature met with a very heavy
fall, Marx pointed to the green woollen scarf on the animal's neck, and
whispered to the smith "Twenty years old, and has the glanders besides."

The little beast nodded slowly and mournfully, as if to say: "Life is
hard; this will probably be the last time I draw a sleigh."

The broad, heavy-laden pine-boughs drooped wearily by the roadside, the
gleaming surface of the snow stretched in a monotonous sheet of white
between the trunks of the trees, the tops of the dark rocks beside the
way bore smooth white caps of loose snow, the forest stream was frozen
along the edges, only in the centre did the water trickle through snow-
crystals and sharp icicles to the valley.

So long as the moon shone, flickering rays danced and sparkled on the ice
and snow, but afterwards only the tedious glimmer of the universal snow-
pall lighted the traveller's way.

"If it would only snow!" repeated the charcoal-burner.

The higher they went, the deeper grew the snow, the more wearisome the
wading and climbing.

Often, on the doctor's account, the smith called in a low voice, "Halt!"
and then Costa approached the sleigh and asked: "How do you feel?" or
said: "We are getting on bravely."

Rahel screamed whenever a fox barked in the distance, a wolf howled, or