{"id":22341,"date":"2025-05-27T21:50:39","date_gmt":"2025-05-28T01:50:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/?p=22341"},"modified":"2025-05-27T21:50:41","modified_gmt":"2025-05-28T01:50:41","slug":"august-derleth-the-drifting-snow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/short-stories\/august-derleth-the-drifting-snow\/22341\/","title":{"rendered":"August Derleth: The Drifting Snow"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Synopsis<\/strong>: \u201cThe Drifting Snow<\/em>\u201d is a vampire story by August Derleth, published in February 1939 in Weird Tales<\/em> magazine. The story takes place in an old house in Wisconsin during a winter storm. Clodetta, who has just arrived with her husband, begins to sense an unsettling tension in the family atmosphere, marked by Aunt Mary’s rigid character and her strange prohibition against opening the curtains on the west side of the house after sunset. The mysterious rules imposed by the old woman make sense when Clodetta thinks she sees a figure in the snow.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"August<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The Drifting Snow<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

August Derleth
(Full story)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aunt Mary\u2019s advancing footsteps halted suddenly, short of the table, and Clodetta turned to see what was keeping her. She was standing very rigidly, her eyes fixed upon the French windows just opposite the door through which she had entered, her cane held stiffly before her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta shot a quick glance across the table toward her husband, whose attention had also been drawn to his aunt; his face vouchsafed her nothing. She turned again to find that the old lady had transferred her gaze to her, regarding her stonily and in silence. Clodetta felt uncomfortable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho withdrew the curtains from the west windows?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta flushed, remembering. \u201cI did, Aunt. I\u2019m sorry. I forgot about your not wanting them drawn away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady made an odd, grunting sound, shifting her gaze once again to the French windows. She made a barely perceptible movement, and Lisa ran forward from the shadow of the hall, where she had been regarding the two at table with stern disapproval. The servant went directly to the west windows and drew the curtains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aunt Mary came slowly to the table and took her place at its head. She put her cane against the side of her chair, pulled at the chain about her neck so that her lorgnette lay in her lap, and looked from Clodetta to her nephew, Ernest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then she fixed her gaze on the empty chair at the foot of the table, and spoke without seeming to see the two beside her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI told both of you that none of the curtains over the west windows was to be withdrawn after sundown, and you must have noticed that none of those windows has been for one instant uncovered at night. I took especial care to put you in rooms facing east, and the sitting-room is also in the east.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure Clodetta didn\u2019t mean to go against your wishes, Aunt Mary,\u201d said Ernest abruptly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, of course not, Aunt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady raised her eyebrows, and went on impassively. \u201cI didn\u2019t think it wise to explain why I made such a request. I\u2019m not going to explain. But I do want to say that there is a very definite danger in drawing away the curtains. Ernest has heard that before, but you, Clodetta, have not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta shot a startled glance at her husband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady caught it, and said, \u201cIt\u2019s all very well to believe that my mind\u2019s wandering or that \u201cI\u2019m getting eccentric, but I shouldn\u2019t advise you to be satisfied with that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A young man came suddenly into the room and made for the seat at the foot of the table, into which he flung himself with an almost inaudible greeting to the other three.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLate again, Henry,\u201d said the old lady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Henry mumbled something and began hurriedly to eat. The old lady sighed, and began presently to eat also, whereupon Clodetta and Ernest did likewise. The old servant, who had continued to linger behind Aunt Mary\u2019s chair, now withdrew, not without a scornful glance at Henry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta looked up after a while and ventured a speak, \u201cYou aren\u2019t as isolated as I thought you might be up here, Aunt Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe aren\u2019t, my dear, what with telephones and cars and all. But only twenty years ago it was quite a different thing, I can tell you.\u201d She smiled reminiscently and looked at Ernest. \u201cYour grandfather was living then, and many\u2019s the time he was snowbound with no way to let anybody know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDown in Chicago when they speak of \u2018up north\u2019 or the \u2018Wisconsin woods\u2019 it seems very far away,\u201d said Clodetta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, it is<\/em> far away,\u201d put in Henry abruptly. \u201cAnd, Aunt, I hope you\u2019ve made some provision in case we\u2019re locked in here for a day or two. It looks like snow outside, and the radio says a blizzard\u2019s coming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady grunted and looked at him. \u201cHa, Henry\u2014you\u2019re overly concerned, it seems to me. I\u2019m afraid you\u2019ve been regretting this trip ever since you set foot in my house. If you\u2019re worrying about a snowstorm, I can have Sam drive you down to Wausau, and you can be in Chicago tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silence fell, and presently the old lady called gently, \u201cLisa,\u201d and the servant came into the room to help her from her chair, though, as Clodetta had previously said to her husband, \u201cShe didn\u2019t need help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the doorway, Aunt Mary bade them all goodnight, looking impressively formidable with her cane in one hand and her unopened lorgnette in the other, and vanished into the dusk of the hall, from which her receding footsteps sounded together with those of the servant, who was seldom seen away from her. These two were alone in the house most of the time, and only very brief periods when the old lady had up her nephew Ernest, \u201cdear John\u2019s boy,\u201d or Henry, of whose father the old lady never spoke, helped to relieve the pleasant somnolence of their quiet lives. Sam, who usually slept in the garage, did not count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta looked nervously at her husband, but it was Henry who said what was uppermost in their thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think she\u2019s losing her mind,\u201d he declared matter-of-factly. Cutting off Clodetta\u2019s protest on her lips, he got up and went into the sitting-room, from which came presently the strains of music from the radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta fingered her spoon idly and finally said, \u201cI do think she is a little queer, Ernest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ernest smiled tolerantly. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think so. I\u2019ve an idea why she keeps the west windows covered. My grandfather died out there\u2014he was overcome by the cold one night, and froze on the slope of the hill. I don\u2019t rightly know how it happened\u2014I was away at the time. I suppose she doesn\u2019t like to be reminded of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut where\u2019s the danger she spoke of, then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He shrugged. \u201cPerhaps it lies in her\u2014she might be affected and affect us in turn.\u201d He paused for an instant, and finally added, \u201cI suppose she does<\/em> seem a little strange to you\u2014but she was like that as long as I can remember; next time you come, you\u2019ll be used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta looked at her husband for a moment before replying. At last she said, \u201cI don\u2019t think I like the house, Ernest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, nonsense, darling.\u201d He started to get up, but Clodetta stopped him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cListen, Ernest. I remembered perfectly well Aunt Mary\u2019s not wanting those curtains drawn away\u2014but I just felt I had to do it. I didn\u2019t want to but\u2014something made me do it\u201d<\/em> Her voice was unsteady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, Clodetta,\u201d he said, faintly alarmed. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me before?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She shrugged. \u201cAunt Mary might have thought I\u2019d gone wool-gathering.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s nothing serious, but you\u2019ve let it bother you a little and that isn\u2019t good for you. Forget it; think of something else. Come and listen to the radio.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They rose and moved toward the sitting-room together. At the door Henry met them. He stepped aside a little, saying, \u201cI might have known we\u2019d be marooned up here,\u201d and adding, as Clodetta began to protest, \u201cWe\u2019re going to be, all right. There\u2019s a wind coming up and it\u2019s beginning to snow, and I know what that means.\u201d He passed them and went into the deserted dining-room, where he stood a moment looking at the too long table. Then he turned aside and went over to the French windows, from which he drew away the curtains and stood there peering out into the darkness. Ernest saw him standing at the window, and protested from the sitting-room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAunt Mary doesn\u2019t like those windows uncovered, Henry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Henry half turned and replied, \u201cWell, she<\/em> may think it\u2019s dangerous, but I can risk it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta, who had been staring beyond Henry into the night through the French windows, said suddenly, \u201cWhy, there\u2019s someone out there 1\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Henry looked quickly through the glass and replied, \u201cNo, that\u2019s the snow; it\u2019s coming down heavily, and the wind\u2019s drifting it this way and that.\u201d He dropped the curtains and came away from the windows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta said uncertainly, \u201cWhy, I could have sworn I saw someone out there, walking past the window.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI suppose it does look that way from here,\u201d offered Henry, who had come back into the sitting-room. \u201cBut personally, I think you\u2019ve let Aunt Mary\u2019s eccentricities impress you too much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ernest made an impatient gesture at this, and Clodetta did not answer. Henry sat down before the radio and began to move the dial slowly. Ernest had found himself a book, and was becoming interested, but Clodetta continued to sit with her eyes fixed upon the still slowly moving curtains cutting off the French windows. Presently she got up and left the room, going down the long hall into the east wing, where she tapped gently upon Aunt Mary\u2019s door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome in,\u201d called the old lady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta opened the door and stepped into the room where Aunt Mary sat in her dressing-robe, her dignity, in the shape of her lorgnette and cane, resting respectively on her bureau and in the corner. She looked surprisingly benign, as Clodetta at once confessed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa, thought I was an ogre in disguise, did you?\u201d said the old lady, smiling in spite of herself. \u201cI\u2019m really not, you see, but I am a sort of bogy about the west windows, as you have seen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wanted to tell you something about those windows, Aunt Mary,\u201d said Clodetta. She stopped suddenly. The expression on the old lady\u2019s face had given way to a curiously dismaying one. It was not anger, not distaste\u2014it was a lurking suspense. Why, the old lady was afraid 1<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d she asked Clodetta shortly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was looking out\u2014just for a moment or so\u2014and I thought I saw someone out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, you didn\u2019t, Clodetta. Your imagination, perhaps, or the drifting snow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy imagination? Maybe. But there was no wind to drift the snow, though one has come up since.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve often been fooled that way, my dear. Sometimes I\u2019ve gone out in the morning to look for footprints\u2014there weren\u2019t any, ever. We\u2019re pretty far away from civilization in a snowstorm, despite our telephones and radios. Our nearest neighbor is at the foot of the long, sloping rise\u2014over three miles away\u2014and all wooded land between. There\u2019s no highway nearer than that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was so clear. I could have sworn to it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you want to go out in the morning and look?\u201d asked the old lady shortly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen you didn\u2019t see anything?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was half question, half demand. Clodetta said, \u201cOh, Aunt Mary, you\u2019re making an issue of it now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you or didn\u2019t you in your own mind see anything, Clodetta?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI guess I didn\u2019t, Aunt Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVery well. And now do you think we might talk about something more pleasant?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, I\u2019m sure\u2014I\u2019m sorry, Aunt. I didn\u2019t know that Ernest\u2019s grandfather had died out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa, he\u2019s told you that, has he? Well?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, he said that was why you didn\u2019t like the slope after sunset\u2014that you didn\u2019t like to be reminded of his death.\u201d The old lady looked at Clodetta impassively. \u201cPerhaps he\u2019ll never know how near right he was.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean, Aunt Mary?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNothing for you to know, my dear.\u201d She smiled again, her sternness dropping from her. \u201cAnd now I think you\u2019d better go, Clodetta; I\u2019m tired.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta rose obediently and made for the door, where the old lady stopped her. \u201cHow\u2019s the weather?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s snowing\u2014hard, Henry says\u2014and blowing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady\u2019s face showed her distaste at the news. \u201cI don\u2019t like to hear that, not at all. Suppose someone should look down that slope tonight?\u201d She was speaking to herself, having forgotten Clodetta at the door. Seeing her again abruptly, she said, \u201cBut you don\u2019t know, Clodetta. Goodnight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta stood with her back against the closed door, wondering what the old lady could have meant. But you don\u2019t know, Clodetta.<\/em> That was curious. For a moment or two the old lady had completely forgotten her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She moved away from the door, and came upon Ernest just turning into the east wing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, there you are,\u201d he said. \u201cI wondered where you had gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was talking a bit with Aunt Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHenry\u2019s been at the west windows again\u2014and now he <\/em>thinks there\u2019s someone out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta stopped short. \u201cDoes he really think so?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ernest nodded gravely. \u201cBut the snow\u2019s drifting frightfully, and I can imagine how that suggestion of yours worked on his mind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta turned and went back along the hall. \u201cI\u2019m going to tell Aunt Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He started to protest, but to no avail, for she was already tapping on the old lady\u2019s door, was indeed opening the door and entering the room before he could frame an adequate protest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAunt Mary,\u201d she said, \u201cI didn\u2019t want to disturb you again, but Henry\u2019s been at the French windows in the dining-room, and he says he\u2019s seen someone out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The effect on the old lady was magical. \u201cHe\u2019s seen them!\u201d she exclaimed. Then she was on her feet, coming rapidly over to Clodetta. \u201cHow long ago?\u201d she demanded, seizing her almost roughly by the arms. \u201cTell me, quickly. How long ago did he see them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta\u2019s amazement kept her silent for a moment, but at last she spoke, feeling the old lady\u2019s keen eyes staring at her. \u201cIt was some time ago, Aunt Mary, after supper.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady\u2019s hands relaxed, and with it her tension. \u201cOh,\u201d she said, and turned and went back slowly to her chair, taking her cane from the comer where she had put it for the night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen there is<\/em> someone out there?\u201d challenged Clodetta, when the old lady had reached her chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a long time, it seemed to Clodetta, there was no answer. Then presently the old lady began to nod gently, and a barely audible \u201cYes\u201d escaped her lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen we had better take them in, Aunt Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady looked at Clodetta earnestly for a moment; then she replied, her voice firm and low, her eyes fixed upon the wall beyond. \u201cWe can\u2019t take them in, Clodetta\u2014because they\u2019re not alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At once Henry\u2019s words came flashing into Clodetta\u2019s memory\u2014She\u2019s losing her mind\u201d\u2014and her involuntary start betrayed her thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid I\u2019m not mad, my dear\u2014I hoped at first I might be, but I wasn\u2019t. I\u2019m not, now. There was only one of them out there at first\u2014the girl; Father is the other. Quite long ago, when I was young, my father did something which he regretted all his days. He had a too strong temper, and it maddened him. One night he found out that one of my brothers\u2014Henry\u2019s father\u2014had been very familiar with one of the servants, a very pretty girl, older than I was. He thought she was to blame, though she wasn\u2019t, and he didn\u2019t find out until too late. He drove her from the house, then and there. Winter had not yet set in, but it was quite cold, and she had some five miles to go to her home. We begged father not to send her away\u2014though we didn\u2019t know what was wrong then\u2014but he paid no attention to us. The girl had to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot long after she had gone, a biting wind came up, and close upon it a fierce storm. Father had already repented his hasty action, and sent some of the men to look for the girl. They didn\u2019t find her, but in the morning she was found frozen to death on the long slope of the hill to the west.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady sighed, paused a moment, and went on. \u201cYears later\u2014she came back. She came in a snowstorm, as she went; but she had became vampiric. We all saw her. We were at supper table, and Father saw her first. The boys had already gone upstairs, and Father and the two of us girls, my sister and I, did not recognize her. She was just a dim shape floundering about in the snow beyond the French windows. Father ran out to her, calling to us to send the boys after him. We never saw him alive again. In the morning we found him in the same spot where years before the girl had been found. He, too, had died of exposure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen, a few years after\u2014she returned with the snow, and she brought him along; he, too, had become vampiric. They stayed until the last snow, always trying to lure someone out there. After that, I knew, and had the windows covered during the winter nights, from sunset to dawn, because they never went beyond the west slope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow you know, Clodetta.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whatever Clodetta was going to say was cut short by running footsteps in the hall, a hasty rap, and Ernest\u2019s head appearing suddenly in the open doorway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, you two,\u201d he said, almost gayly, \u201cThere are <\/em>people out on the west slope\u2014a girl and an old man\u2014and Henry\u2019s gone out to fetch them in!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, triumphant, he was off. Clodetta came to her feet, but the old lady was before her, passing her and almost running down the hall, calling loudly for Lisa, who presently appeared in nightcap and gown from her room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCall Sam, Lisa,\u201d said the old lady, \u201cand send him to me in the dining-room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She ran on into the dining-room, Clodetta close on her heels. The French windows were open, and Ernest stood on the snow-covered terrace beyond, calling his cousin. The old lady went directly over to him, even striding into the snow to his side, though the wind drove the snow against her with great force. The wooded western slope was lost in a snow-fog; the nearest trees were barely discernible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere could they have gone?\u201d Ernest said, turning to the old lady, whom he had thought to be Clodetta. Then, seeing that it was the old lady, he said, \u201cWhy, Aunt Mary\u2014and so little on, too! You\u2019ll catch your death of cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNever mind, Ernest,\u201d said the old lady. \u201cI\u2019m all right. I\u2019ve had Sam get up to help you look for Henry\u2014but I\u2019m afraid you won\u2019t find him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe can\u2019t be far; he just went out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe went before you saw where; he\u2019s far enough gone.\u201d Sam came running into the blowing snow from the diningroom, muffled in a greatcoat. He was considerably older than Ernest, almost the old lady\u2019s age. He shot a questioning glance at her and asked, \u201cHave they come again?\u201d Aunt Mary nodded. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to look for Henry. Ernest will help you. And remember, don\u2019t separate. And don\u2019t go far from the house.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta came with Ernest\u2019s overcoat, and together the two women stood there, watching them until they were swallowed up in the wall of driven snow. Then they turned slowly and went back into the house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady sank into a chair facing the windows. She was pale and drawn, and looked, as Clodetta said afterward, \u201cas if she\u2019d fallen together.\u201d For a long time she said nothing. Then, with a gentle little sigh, she turned to Clodetta and spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow there\u2019ll be three of them out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, so suddenly that no one knew how it happened, Ernest and Sam appeared beyond the windows, and between them they dragged Henry. The old lady flew to open the windows, and the three of them, cloaked in snow, came into the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe found him\u2014but the cold\u2019s hit him pretty hard, I\u2019m afraid,\u201d said Ernest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady sent Lisa for cold water, and Ernest ran to get himself other clothes. Clodetta went with him, and in their rooms told him what the old lady had related to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ernest laughed. \u201cI think you believed that, didn\u2019t you, Clodetta? Sam and Lisa do, I know, because Sam told me the story long ago. I think the shock of Grandfather\u2019s death was too much for all three of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut the story of the girl, and then\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat part\u2019s true, I\u2019m afraid. A nasty story, but it did happen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut those people Henry and I saw!\u201d protested Clodetta;weakly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ernest stood without movement. \u201cThat\u2019s so,\u201d he said, \u201cI saw them, too. Then they\u2019re out there yet, and we\u2019ll have to find them!\u201d He took up his overcoat again, and went from the room, Clodetta protesting in a shrill unnatural voice. The old lady met him at the door of the dining-room, having overheard Clodetta pleading with him. \u201cNo, Ernest\u2014you can\u2019t go out there again,\u201d she said. \u201cThere\u2019s no one out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He pushed gently into the room and called to Sam, \u201cComing, Sam? There are still two of them out there\u2014we almost forgot them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam looked at him strangely. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he demanded roughly. He looked challengingly at the old lady, who shook her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe girl and the old man, Sam. We\u2019ve got to get them, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, them,\u201d<\/em> said Sam. \u201cThey\u2019re dead!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen I\u2019ll go out alone,\u201d said Ernest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Henry came to his feet suddenly, looking dazed. He walked forward a few steps, his eyes traveling from one to the other of them yet apparently not seeing them. He began to speak abruptly, in an unnatural childlike voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe snow,\u201d<\/em> he murmured, \u201cthe snow\u2014the beautiful hands, so little, so lovely\u2014her beautiful hands\u2014and the snow, the beautiful, lovely snow, drifting and falling about her<\/em>.\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned slowly and looked toward the French windows, the others following his gaze. Beyond was a wall of white, where the snow was drifting against the house. For a moment Henry stood quietly watching; then suddenly a white figure came forward from the snow\u2014a young girl, cloaked in long snow-whips, her glistening eyes strangely fascinating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old lady flung herself forward, her arms outstretched to cling to Henry, but she was too late. Henry had run toward the windows, had opened them, and even as Clodetta cried out, had vanished into the wall of snow beyond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Ernest ran forward, but the old lady threw her arms around him and held him tightly, murmuring, \u201cYou shall not go! Henry is gone beyond our help!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clodetta came to help her, and Sam stood menacingly at the French windows, now closed against the wind and the sinister snow. So they held him, and would not let him go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd tomorrow,\u201d said the old lady in a harsh whisper, \u201cwe must go to their graves and stake them down. We should have gone before.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the morning they found Henryk body crouched against the hole of an ancient oak, where two others had been found years before. There were almost obliterated marks of where something had dragged him, a long, uneven swath in the snow, and yet no footprints, only strange, hollowed places along the way as if the wind had whirled the snow away, and only the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But on his skin were signs of the snow vampire\u2014the delicate small prints of a young girl\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE END<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe Drifting Snow\u201d is a vampire story by August Derleth, published in February 1939 in Weird Tales magazine. The story takes place in an old house in Wisconsin during a winter storm. Clodetta, who has just arrived with her husband, begins to sense an unsettling tension in the family atmosphere, marked by Aunt Mary’s rigid character and her strange prohibition against opening the curtains on the west side of the house after sunset. The mysterious rules imposed by the old woman make sense when Clodetta thinks she sees a figure in the snow.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22335,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[559],"tags":[932,572,570,848],"class_list":["post-22341","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-stories","tag-august-derleth-en","tag-horror-en","tag-united-states","tag-vampires","generate-columns","tablet-grid-50","mobile-grid-100","grid-parent","grid-33"],"acf":[],"taxonomy_info":{"category":[{"value":559,"label":"Short stories"}],"post_tag":[{"value":932,"label":"August Derleth"},{"value":572,"label":"Horror"},{"value":570,"label":"United States"},{"value":848,"label":"Vampires"}]},"featured_image_src_large":["https:\/\/lecturia.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/August-Derleth-Entre-la-nieve.webp",1024,1024,false],"author_info":{"display_name":"Juan Pablo Guevara","author_link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/author\/spartakku\/"},"comment_info":"","category_info":[{"term_id":559,"name":"Short stories","slug":"short-stories","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":559,"taxonomy":"category","description":"","parent":0,"count":419,"filter":"raw","cat_ID":559,"category_count":419,"category_description":"","cat_name":"Short stories","category_nicename":"short-stories","category_parent":0}],"tag_info":[{"term_id":932,"name":"August Derleth","slug":"august-derleth-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":932,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":2,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":572,"name":"Horror","slug":"horror-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":572,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":127,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":570,"name":"United States","slug":"united-states","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":570,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":294,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":848,"name":"Vampires","slug":"vampires","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":848,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":4,"filter":"raw"}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22341","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22341"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22341\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22335"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22341"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22341"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22341"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}