Read Online The Song of the Winns by Frances Watts - Free Book Online
Authors: Frances Watts
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mountainside. âWe could aim for that last stand of trees, and set ourselves up there for the night.â
They began the uphill climb. The slope was gentle at first, and Alistair found it easy enough, though it was very uncomfortable walking into the sun. But as the afternoon wore on and the slope grew steeper, the sled grew heavier. At last it seemed to Alistair that although he pulled with all his might, they were barely moving.
When the first clouds passed across the sun, Alistair was glad not to have the glare in his eyes anymore. Then the clouds began to gather, more and more of them appearing over the mountain until the sky was much the same color as the ground. Soon the mountain peaks were no longer visible as the clouds began to sink. It gave Alistair the strange feeling of being imprisoned in the valley.
âI donât like this,â Tibby muttered. âI donât like this at all.â
A wind came howling down through the trees to whip Alistairâs tail about his feet. Then snow began to fall, dashing across his face and body, stinging his ears and eyes and nose.
âItâs a blizzard!â Tibby cried. âKeep going! We have to find shelter in the trees!â
Lower and lower the cloud descended, obscuring the trees, the rocks, shrinking the space around them. Alistair could no longer see the trees, and couldnât remember how far they had been from them. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, step by interminablestep, his head down. Without the sun, the temperature dropped rapidly, and the cold crept from his toes to his knees. He could hear Tibby, breathing hard beside him, but he could barely see her.
One foot in front of the other . . . The snow swirled and eddied around them. It coated his fur, collecting in icy clumps where his scarf circled his throat. His hands ached where they gripped the rope, his eyes streamed where the snow stung them, and his ears hurt from the roar of the wind. He was so cold his blood felt as though it was freezing in his veins; his very bones felt chilled. Alistair couldnât imagine ever being warm enough again.
One foot in front of the other . . . His hunger was growing sharper, a relentless nagging in his belly. Yet while the sensation in his stomach seemed to grow more intense, his thoughts grew dull and his limbs leaden. He longed to stop and rest, but they couldnât risk it. The temperature would drop even further as evening fell. If they didnât reach shelter soon, there was a very real chance theyâd die of exposure out there on the freezing mountain.
One foot in front of the other . . . Each step was becoming more of an effort as their toes sank deeper into the snow. And still they hadnât found shelter. How could they even be sure they were going the right way? Alistair wondered. They couldnât follow the position of the sun, couldnât see the trees they were aiming for. They had only the relentless climb uphill to assure them they were on course.
Alistair still couldnât see the trees even when they finally reached them. The huge dark trunks had been buried in snow and the white-covered boughs were invisible through the dense white fog. It was only when the sound of the wind grew muffled, and the snow was no longer driving into his face, that he realized shelter was close at hand.
Tibbyâs voice sounded unaccustomedly loud as she said, âLetâs stop here.â Still breathing hard, she looked around. âWe should be able to find space around the trunk of a tree where itâs sheltered by a spreading branch. Weâll need to dig a bit though. How aboutâouch!â
Alistair dropped the rope of the sled and rushed toward the sound of her voice. âWhatâs wrong?â
âItâs nothing,â she said. âI just walked into this big rock. Hey . . .â She was feeling in front of her with her hands. âThereâs an overhang. We can
They began the uphill climb. The slope was gentle at first, and Alistair found it easy enough, though it was very uncomfortable walking into the sun. But as the afternoon wore on and the slope grew steeper, the sled grew heavier. At last it seemed to Alistair that although he pulled with all his might, they were barely moving.
When the first clouds passed across the sun, Alistair was glad not to have the glare in his eyes anymore. Then the clouds began to gather, more and more of them appearing over the mountain until the sky was much the same color as the ground. Soon the mountain peaks were no longer visible as the clouds began to sink. It gave Alistair the strange feeling of being imprisoned in the valley.
âI donât like this,â Tibby muttered. âI donât like this at all.â
A wind came howling down through the trees to whip Alistairâs tail about his feet. Then snow began to fall, dashing across his face and body, stinging his ears and eyes and nose.
âItâs a blizzard!â Tibby cried. âKeep going! We have to find shelter in the trees!â
Lower and lower the cloud descended, obscuring the trees, the rocks, shrinking the space around them. Alistair could no longer see the trees, and couldnât remember how far they had been from them. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, step by interminablestep, his head down. Without the sun, the temperature dropped rapidly, and the cold crept from his toes to his knees. He could hear Tibby, breathing hard beside him, but he could barely see her.
One foot in front of the other . . . The snow swirled and eddied around them. It coated his fur, collecting in icy clumps where his scarf circled his throat. His hands ached where they gripped the rope, his eyes streamed where the snow stung them, and his ears hurt from the roar of the wind. He was so cold his blood felt as though it was freezing in his veins; his very bones felt chilled. Alistair couldnât imagine ever being warm enough again.
One foot in front of the other . . . His hunger was growing sharper, a relentless nagging in his belly. Yet while the sensation in his stomach seemed to grow more intense, his thoughts grew dull and his limbs leaden. He longed to stop and rest, but they couldnât risk it. The temperature would drop even further as evening fell. If they didnât reach shelter soon, there was a very real chance theyâd die of exposure out there on the freezing mountain.
One foot in front of the other . . . Each step was becoming more of an effort as their toes sank deeper into the snow. And still they hadnât found shelter. How could they even be sure they were going the right way? Alistair wondered. They couldnât follow the position of the sun, couldnât see the trees they were aiming for. They had only the relentless climb uphill to assure them they were on course.
Alistair still couldnât see the trees even when they finally reached them. The huge dark trunks had been buried in snow and the white-covered boughs were invisible through the dense white fog. It was only when the sound of the wind grew muffled, and the snow was no longer driving into his face, that he realized shelter was close at hand.
Tibbyâs voice sounded unaccustomedly loud as she said, âLetâs stop here.â Still breathing hard, she looked around. âWe should be able to find space around the trunk of a tree where itâs sheltered by a spreading branch. Weâll need to dig a bit though. How aboutâouch!â
Alistair dropped the rope of the sled and rushed toward the sound of her voice. âWhatâs wrong?â
âItâs nothing,â she said. âI just walked into this big rock. Hey . . .â She was feeling in front of her with her hands. âThereâs an overhang. We can
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