But it only led them to the ice again. So they clambered up the side of the gulley to find a descent in some other direction. This brought them to a level stretch that by and by however became so steep they could hardly find a foothold and were afraid of sliding down. After climbing through snow a great while and walking along an even ridge, it was again as before, either the slope was so steep they would have lost their footing, or it went on up so far they feared it would bring them to the mountain-top.

They now hoped to find the path by which they had first come up, and make their way back to the red memorial post. Since it was not snowing and the sky was so bright, Conrad thought, they would easily recognize the place where the post ought to be, and then be able to find the way down to Gschaid.

He explained the plan to his sister and she followed him.

But the way to the col was not to be found either.

Shone the sun ever so bright, towered the heights ever so fair above the snowfields, there was no telling the place by which they had made their way up on the previous day. Then all had been so veiled by the terrifying snowfall they had scarcely been able to see a step ahead and everything was an intermingling of white and gray. Only the rocks beside and between which they passed had been visible. Today, too, they had seen many rocks but all of them had looked just like the others. Today they left fresh footprints in the snow but yesterday’s had been all covered by the snow as it fell; they could not just by the look of things tell which way led to the col, for all places looked alike. Snow, nothing but snow. But still hoping, they pressed on. They avoided precipitous descents and did not climb any more steep gradients.

Today too they often stood and listened. But now, as yesterday, could hear nothing, not the faintest sound. Again, nothing to be seen but snow; the white white snow, with sombre horns and blackened ribs standing out in bold relief.

At length the lad thought he saw a fire. It seemed to him at last that on a far distant precipitous snowfield a flame was leaping up. It disappeared, went up and died down. Now they saw it, now lost it. They stood and watched fixedly in that direction. The flame kept on leaping and seemed to be coming closer, for they saw it grow larger and saw its flaming more distinctly. It did not disappear so often now or for so long a time. Afterwhile they heard faintly, very faintly, across the still blue distance, something like the long-sustained note of an alpenhorn. Instinctively both shouted with all their might. Afterwhile they heard the sound again and shouted again, staying where they were. The flame too was coming nearer. They caught the sound a third time, and this time more clearly. They answered again, with a loud shout. After considerable time they recognized the flame. It was not a flame. It was a red flag being waved. Meanwhile the horn sounded nearer, and again they answered.

“Sanna,” exclaimed the lad, “people from Gschaid are coming.