Armstrong, Margaret (ed.) / The Wisconsin magazine
Volume XI, Number 6 (March 1914)
Ketcham, Iva N.
When the Valkyrie came, pp. [unnumbered]-seven
WHEN THE VALKYRIE CAME Iva N. Ketcham This Story Won Second Place in the Vilas Prize Story Contest HIEN the wind roared in the great W~i asp ues that climbed up the slopes of the foothills, Ole Skaarson took his pipe from between his lips and smiled. His wide blue eyes travel- led from the blazing coals in the chimney corner to a jagged crack in the rough plastered wall. The blasts shook the small hut until it trembled ominously, but Ole merely watched the checkered firelight dance fitfully over the uneven floor, and creep a little way up the wall. The shadows quivered across the seamed rent in the plas- ter, now light, now gray, as the flame leap- ed up for a moment and then hid itself in the ashes. There were times when he pressed the toe of his thick boot against a worn knot in the pine floor and kept up a kind of rhythmic beating to the coming and going of the shadows. Then, the wind would roar so loudly that the tin plates and cups in the cupboard, which was a wooden soap box nailed upon the wall, would clatter against one another with a discordant jangling sound. But Ole did not move; he sat quite still with his eyes fastened upon the heavy door, as though he were waiting-very patiently, very quietly. When it did not open, the smile glimmered again about the corners of his mouth, and he listened intently to the blasts that cried to him like a Voice from the out- side. "You made that crack in the wall the I I
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