They were still racing in the same direction when Strikes Fast pointed up toward the sky where a flock of geese were hurrying south on a fast wing. Yet, Sharon didn't recognize the common V-shape of their flight pattern and only knew they were geese by their constant honking.
Although Strikes Fast didn't comment upon it, Sharon understood there was a reason for the birds' disorderly and swift flight to the south. Again Strikes Fast pointed, but this time the direction was toward the northern horizon.
And, there Sharon beheld a black cloud hovering over the mountains; indeed, it looked like a girdle of ominous fog, hanging there. Above it was blue sky, but below it and all the way to the ground was the deepest, darkest stretch of clouds Sharon had ever seen, looking, from this distance, to be a deep, dark haze over the land.
But, it wasn't a fog or a haze, she came to realize. It was moving and traveling toward them swiftly, the clouds appearing as though they were somersaulting one over the other. And, even as she gazed forward, the snowy mountains, when they before had been right in front of them, could no longer be seen.
"It is coming fast! Oh my!" Sharon shouted above the noise of the wind which, only at this moment, had reached them. And then, even knowing Strikes Fast didn't understand English, she asked, "Will we survive it?"
In English, Strikes Fast shouted, "Blizzard. Come. Must…shelter… find…or…here…we…die."
"But, it's black. How can it be a blizzard? Why, the winds are even bringing with it the smell of smoke! How can I smell smoke and it is yet a blizzard?"
He didn't answer because she had spoken in English. Instead, he pointed into the distance and signed, "Lightning snow…make fire." It was all he signed before he bent down over his horse, petting its neck as he spoke to it. And, as though in answer to Strikes Fast's words, the horse, which was already running at a terrific speed, picked up its pace until it felt to Sharon as if they were flying over the ground.
Sharon murmured, "Lightning and snow? They go together?"
But, her question was never answered because in little more than a few moments, the black fog, traveling faster than she had ever seen a cloud move, hit them and Sharon came to see it wasn't fog at all but was instead a large thick black cloud. And, within the cloud were furious winds; there was lightning and a furious snowfall, although the lightning was in the heavens and not on the ground. Suddenly, Sharon felt as though she could be blown from the horse, and she clung even harder to Strikes Fast, fearing at any moment she would be flung from the horse and left to freeze upon the prairie.
Hard and fast snow hit them without warning, and these were neither tender nor fluffy flakes. This was a heavy white hail downfall instead of snow, and it came at them so furiously, the "snowfall" could have caused injury. Worse, the air quickly turned to freezing; it was unbelievable because only a few moments ago it had been warm and sunny. And then, without warning, she became unable to see a mere few inches in front of her.
Sharon placed her head down sideways against Strikes Fast's back and hoped he hadn't also been blinded. Indeed, she needed him to guide them to safety. She certainly could not.
Her hands as well as her feet were quickly becoming frozen, and it was with some surprise when Sharon felt Strikes Fast pull his mount to a stop. Quickly, he dismounted and began to run next to the horse, her own pony, Black Slippers, following. At once, she understood, and, sliding off the pony also, she began to run alongside Strikes Fast as best she could, trying to ease the pony's burden and also to keep from freezing.
He took her hand, and they kept onward. They had no choice. It was either go on and seek shelter, or surrender to the elements and freeze to death. And so, they kept trudging through the quickly accumulating snow, periodically riding and then running. On and on they fled, and Sharon couldn't remember ever being so cold. Nor could she bring a time to mind when she'd been so close to freezing. She couldn't really tell, but it seemed to her as if their path were becoming more and more uphill, so difficult was it.
Yet, they slogged on, though she could no longer feel her fingers, her toes or even parts of her face. It seemed to her as if they had been alternately running and then riding for hours now, and she wondered if they were going to survive this blizzard. Alas, she felt as though they might not.
Worse, the farther uphill they traveled, the deeper and deeper became the snow, making it impossible to run next to the horse, and since it was the only activity keeping them both warm, she feared they would truly freeze to death.
Because they had no other option, they mounted the horse again and huddled together as best they could, yet Sharon became uncommonly aware of her naked fear in this plight. After all, how would it be possible to keep going and not freeze?
Then, with some relief, instead of the constant tread uphill, she became aware they were descending. Glancing up, she noted they were treading down into a small valley, and there in the distance she could see a grove of the tallest pine trees she'd ever seen. There was another kind of tree there also, but it was beyond her to see what species of tree it was.
But, did it matter? At least the grouping of trees was there ahead of them, promising a little shelter from the storm.
Reaching the sanctuary of the trees, the terrible and freezing winds became less treacherous, and, as Strikes Fast led them deeper and deeper into the environment of the undergrowth and trees, Sharon became aware of the types of trees they were: they were enormous pines, with no needles or branches even close to the ground, and there were also huge tall cottonwoods, some as big around as a small house.
Strikes Fast had found and led them into a grove of the most gigantic woods she had ever seen. Truly, so tall were these trees, they let very little of the storm reach the ground, and, in consequence, as little as perhaps four inches of snow covered the terrain.
As both she and Strikes Fast dismounted, he on one side of the animal and she on the other, she saw Strikes Fast stomping furiously over the ground and clapping his hands, and she understood at once: this was the way to restore blood circulation to their extremities. As she gazed up over the pony at Strikes Fast, she smiled.
And, he, in turn, signed, "We still live. Now we must build ourselves a shelter and a fire and make ourselves comfortable while we eat what food we have brought with us. Later I will hunt for us, but we should be able to be contented enough here to sit out the rest of the storm. Let us hope our enemies have turned back. And, if they have, the storm will indeed have become our friend this day."
Sharon wasn't certain she agreed with Strikes Fast about the storm. The blizzard didn't seem to be any friend to her. Yet, here they were, still alive, and if they could build a good enough shelter, they might yet find comfort.
But, how did one go about creating a refuge out of nothing and starting a fire in an environment so wet? Though she had no idea of how to go about constructing such a place, she learned that—the good Lord be thanked—Strikes Fast knew exactly how to do it.
