On the way to a mountain in the dead of winter, I dropped behind the group I was traveling with and got lost. To make matters worse, it began to rain heavily. The wind blew hard, and the blasted forest groaned as if in pain. And so overcast was the sky that night came several hours earlier than usual. Cold and frightened, I was trembling all over. All I could do was shout for help, but no help was forthcoming. The night became darker, the wind blew harder, and the rain poured down more heavily. I ate my last piece of food, a tiny piece of cake. Totally despaired, I was waiting not for miracle but for death. Suddenly, a thunderclap woke me up. A rainstorm was indeed raging outside, but I was grateful to find that I only had a nightmare.
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