The cold stung, and at the same
time delighted one. My horse's breath rose like steam, and whenever we
stopped he smoked all over. The cornfields got back a little of their
color under the dazzling light, and stood the palest possible gold in the
sun and snow. All about us the snow was crusted in shallow terraces, with
tracings like ripple-marks at the edges, curly waves that were the actual
impression of the stinging lash in the wind.
The girls had on cotton dresses under their shawls; they kept shivering
beneath the buffalo robes and hugging each other for warmth. But they were
so glad to get away from their ugly cave and their mother's scolding that
they begged me to go on and on, as far as Russian Peter's house. The great
fresh open, after the stupefying warmth indoors, made them behave like
wild things. They laughed and shouted, and said they never wanted to go
home again. Could n't we settle down and live in Russian Peter's house,
Yulka asked, and could n't I go to town and buy things for us to keep
house with?
All the way to Russian Peter's we were extravagantly happy, but when we
turned back,--it must have been about four o'clock,--the east wind grew
stronger and began to howl; the sun lost its heartening power and the sky
became gray and somber. I took off my long woolen comforter and wound it
around Yulka's throat. She got so cold that we made her hide her head
under the buffalo robe.
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