g upon the mosses in a sheltered
spot where in summer a streamlet ran. Of these we were so fortunate as
to kill two, for no sportsman had ever come here, and they were tame
enough, poor things. As meat would keep for ever in that temperature,
we had now sufficient food to last us for a fortnight, and dragging the
animals down the snow slopes to the cave, we skinned them by the dying
light.

That evening we supped upon fresh mutton, a great luxury, which the
monk enjoyed as much as we did, since, whatever might be his views as to
taking life, he liked mutton. Then we turned into the tent and huddled
ourselves together for warmth, as the temperature must have been some
degrees below zero. The old monk rested well enough, but neither Leo nor
I slept over much, for wonder as to what we might see from the top of
that mountain banished sleep.

Next morning at the dawn, the weather being still favourable, our
companion returned to the monastery, whither we said we would follow him
in a day or two.

Now at last we were alone, and without wasting an instant began our
ascent of the peak. It was many thousand feet high and in certain places
steep enough, but the deep, frozen snow made climbing easy, so that by
midday we reached the top. Hence the view was magnificent. Beneath
us stretched the desert, and beyond it a broad belt of fantastically
shaped, snow-clad mountains, hundreds and hundreds of them; in front, to
the right, to the left, as far as the eye could reach.

"They are just as I saw them in my dream so many years ago," muttered
Leo; "the same, the very same."

"And where was the fiery light?" I asked.

"Yonder, I think;" and he pointed north by east.

"Well, it is not there now," I answered, "and this place is cold."

So, since it was dangerous to linger, lest the darkness should overtake
us on our return journey, we descended the peak again, reaching the cave
about sunset. The next four days we spent in the same way. Every morning
we crawled up those wearisome banks of snow, and every afternoon we
slid and tobogganed down them again, till I grew heartily tired of the
exercise.

On the fourth night, instead of coming to sleep in the tent Leo sat
himself down at the entrance to the cave. I asked him why he did this,
but he answered impatiently, because he wished it, so I left him alone.
I could see, indeed, that he was in a strange and irritable mood, for
the failure of our search oppressed him. Moreover, we k