che impassable, the
father and his three sons go away, and leave the house in charge of the
old guide, Gaspard Hari, with the young guide, Ulrich Kunzi, and Sam,
the great mountain dog.

The two men and the dog remained till the spring in their snowy prison,
with nothing before their eyes except the immense, white slopes of the
Balmhorn; they were surrounded by light, glistening summits, and shut
up, blocked up and buried by the snow which rose around them, and which
enveloped, bound and crushed the little house, which lay piled on the
roof, reached to the windows and blocked up the door.

It was the day on which the Hauser family were going to return to
Loeche, as winter was approaching, and the descent was becoming
dangerous. Three mules started first, laden with baggage and led by the
three sons. Then the mother, Jean Hauser and her daughter Louise mounted
a fourth mule, and set off in their turn, and the father followed them,
accompanied by the two men in charge, who were to escort the family as
far as the brow of the descent. First of all they passed round the small
lake, which was now frozen over, at the bottom of the mass of rocks
which stretched in front of the inn, and then they followed the valley,
which was dominated on all sides by the snow covered summits.

A ray of sunlight fell into that little white, glistening, frozen
desert, and illuminated it with a cold and dazzling flame; no living
thing appeared among this ocean of hills; there was nothing more in this
immeasurable solitude, and no noise disturbed the profound silence.

By degrees the young guide Ulrich Kunzi, a tall, long legged Swiss, left
daddy Hauser and old Gaspard behind, in order to catch up to the mule,
which carried the two women. The younger one looked at him as he
approached, and appeared to be calling him, with her sad eyes. She was a
young, light haired peasant girl, whose milk white cheeks and pale hair
looked as if they had lost their color by their long abode amidst the
ice. When he had got up with the animal which carried them, he put his
hand on the crupper, and relaxed his speed. Mother Hauser began to talk
to him, and enumerated with the minutest details all that he would have
to attend to during the winter. It was the first time that he was going
to stop up there, while old Hari had already spent fourteen winters
amidst the snow, at the inn of Schwarenbach.

Ulrich Kunzi listened, without appearing to understand, and looked