by the glass that he sunk to the knee in the softening snow.

"Now," said the officer, "he is beginning to understand his situation."

Through the glass they saw Samson pause. From below it seemed as if the
snow were as smooth as a sloping roof, but even to the naked eye a
shadow crossed it near the top. That shadow was a tremendous ridge of
overhanging snow more than a hundred feet deep; and Samson now paused
as he realised that it was insurmountable. He looked down and
undoubtedly saw a part of the regiment waiting for him below. He turned
and plodded slowly under the overhanging ridge until he came to the
precipice at his left. It was a thousand feet sheer down. He retraced
his steps and walked to the similar precipice at the right. Then he
came again to the middle of the great T which his footmarks had made on
that virgin slope. He sat down in the snow.

No one will ever know what a moment of despair the Breton must have
passed through when he realised the hopelessness of his toil.

The officer who was gazing through the glass at him dropped his hand to
his side and laughed.

"The nature of the situation," he said, "has at last dawned upon him.
It took a long time to get an appreciation of it through his thick
Breton skull."

"Let me have the glass a moment," said another. "He has made up his
mind about something."

The officer did not realise the full significance of what he saw