implements of mountaineering, while the two dogs, Fritz and Bruno,
trotted on before us.

At the outset there was some rough ground to traverse, and
considerable work to be done with ropes and tools, for the
slippery edges of the highland path afforded scarce any foothold,
and in some parts the difficulties appeared well-nigh insurmountable.
But every fresh obstacle overcome added a new zest to our resolution,
and, cheered by the reiterated cry of the two seers, "Courage,
messieurs! Avanfons! The worst will soon be passed!" We pushed
forward with right good will, and at length found ourselves on a
broad rocky plateau.

All this time the two hounds had taken the lead, pioneering us with
amazing skill round precipitous corners, and springing from crag
to crag over the icy ravines with a daring and precision which
curdled my blood to witness. It was a relief to see them finally
descend the narrow pass in safety, and halt beside us panting and
exultant. All around lay glittering reaches of untrodden snow,
blinding to look at, scintillant as diamond dust. We sat down to
rest on some scattered boulders, and gazed with wonder at the
magnificent vistas of glowing peaks towering above us, and the
luminous expanse of purple gorge and valley, with the white, roaring
torrents below, over which wreaths of foam-like filmy mist hovered
and floated continually.

As I sat, lost in admiration, St. Aubyn touched my arm, and silently
pointed to Theodor Raoul. He had risen, and now stood at the edge
of the plateau over-hanging the lowland landscape, his head raised,
his eyes wide-opened, his whole appearance indicative of magnetic