out into the snow.

They gave little barks of joy and thrust their noses into the cold white
mass, tossing it high and digging into drifts with broad clumsy paws,
then stopping to rush at each other and tumble almost out of sight in
their play.

It was summer-time at the Hospice, though no one would have guessed it,
for the snow lay in masses on all sides, the little lake was frozen
over, and the peaks of the mountains were sheeted with snow and
blue-white ice that never melted the year around. There was not so much
danger for travellers during the months of July and August, and as the
work was lighter for both the dogs and the monks, the puppies were then
taken out for their first lessons.

A collar was fastened to Prince Jan's neck and from it hung a small
bell that tinkled clearly with each step the proud little fellow took.
When he looked back he saw his brother also had a collar and bell, and
then a casket was tied to each pup's neck. Both dogs watched the monks
and at a sign from Brother Antoine they trotted carefully along the
narrow, slippery way.

There were no trees, grass, or flowers growing for many miles around the
Hospice, for the earth was buried deep under rocks, and these rocks were
covered all the time with a white blanket of snow, which drifted into
the hollow places until it was many feet deep. The narrow trail twisted
between cragged mountains, and often the dogs could look down so far
that it would have made them dizzy, had they not been Hospice dogs.

They trudged along happily for a long distance, then Brother Antoine