[Once in the evening I was caught in a snowstorm. The homes were near. Sleep was overcoming me when I heard a whisper, the woman drilled a lad lying on the sleeping bench.
"Go out quietly, let them know... They will seize her when drowsy," came to me. In an instant there was no trace of sleep.
Crumpling the blanket I picked the backpack and cat-footedly rushed to the mud room. Jerkily feeling for a wooden bolt with a cord I flung the door open...]
The wind threw a handful of snow in my face, gave a wrench to the blanket I had no time to fold and quizzically howled, "Siberian hospitality!"