And what a sight!  It was not simply a great mountain of snow slipping thunderously down to the valleys beneath; but in its ever gathering momentum and incredible velocity it tore great rocks from the ground and either snapped off trees as if they had been straws, or wholly uprooted them, and now was a fast-flying mass of snow, earth, trees and rocks whirling and hurtling through the air.

A huge rock had, as if forcibly detaching itself, flown off from the avalanche and buried itself in the ground only a few feet beyond Harry and Pearl, and more than one uprooted tree lay near them.  Death had missed them by only a few paces.

Not realizing her immunity even after the air had begun to clear, and still panic-stricken and fearful of what might still occur, Pearl continued to moan and pray until Seagreave, who had been so dazed that he had been almost in a state of trance, again became aware of her presence and, partially realizing her piteous state of terror, lifted her in his arms and, wrapping them about her, endeavored to soothe her and allay her fears, although he had not yet sufficiently recovered himself to know fully what he was doing, and was merely following the instinct of protection.

It was impossible for him to realize the mundane again immediately after these undreamed of and supernormal experiences.  Holding Pearl, who still clung to him frantically, cowering and trembling against him, he leaned upon the rough, projecting walls of his cabin and gazed with awed and still unbelieving eyes into this new and formless world, yet obscured with flying snow.

Gradually as the air cleared he saw that a new world, indeed, lay before them.  “Look, look, Pearl,” he cried, hoping to rouse her from her state of blind fright.  “It has been an avalanche and it is over now.”

“No, no,” she moaned, and buried her head more deeply in his shoulder.  “I dare not look up.  It will come again.”

“No, it doesn’t happen twice.  It is over now and we are safe and the cabin is safe.”

And yet, in spite of himself, he sympathized with her fear more than he would have admitted either to himself or her.  Anything seemed possible to him now.  He had looked upon a miracle.  He had seen those immutable peaks, as stable as Time, bend and bow in their strange, cosmic dance, for the change in the position of one had created the illusory effect of a change in all.

“Come, look up, Pearl,” he urged.  “It is all over and everything is changed.  Look up and get accustomed to it.”

Everything was indeed changed.  For a few yards before the cabin his path with its white, smooth walls was intact, but beyond that lay an incredibly smooth expanse of bare earth.  The road was obliterated; the vast projecting rock ledges which had overshadowed it had disappeared.  They had all been razed or else uprooted like the rocks and trees and carried on in that irresistible rush.  The light poured baldly down upon a hillside bare and blank and utterly featureless.  But far down the road where the bridge had spanned the canon there rose a vast white mountain, effectually cutting them off from all communication with the village below.