ile," I said, "I'm fixing the strap, you might fill up the
radiator."

"What with?" said Berry.

"Snow, of course. Just pick it up and shove it in."

"'Just pick it up and sho----' Oh, give me strength," said Berry
brokenly. Then he raised his voice. "Daphne!"

"What's the matter?"

"I've got to pick up some snow now."

"Well, rub your hands with it, dear--well. Then they won't get
frost-bitten."

"You--er--you don't mind my picking it up, then? I mean, my left foot
is already gangrenous."

"Well, rub that, too," called Daphne.

"Thanks," said Berry grimly. "I think I'd rather wait for the dogs. I
expect there are some at Roncevaux. In the pictures they used to have
a barrel of whisky round their necks. The great thing was to be found
by about five dogs. Then you got five barrels. By the time the monks
arrived, you were quite sorry to see them."

"Will you go and fill up the radiator?" said I, unlocking the
tool-box....

The fitting of the new belt was a blasphemous business. My fingers
were cold and clumsy, and everything I touched was red-hot. However,
at last it was done.

As I was looking over the engine--

"We'd better pull up a bit," said Berry. "I've used all the snow round
here. Just a few feet, you know. That drift over there'll last me a
long time."

"What d'you mean?" said I. "Isn't it full yet?"

"Well, I thought it was just now, but it seems to go down. I've put in
about a hundredweight to date."

An investigation of the phenomenon revealed the unpleasant truth that
the radiator was leaking.

I explained this to Berry.

"I see," he said gravely. "I understand. In other words, for the last
twenty minutes I have been at some pains to be introducing water into
an inconveniently shaped sieve?"

"That," said I, "is the idea."

"And, for all the good I've been doing, I might have been trying to eat
a lamb cutlet through a couple of straws?"

"Oh, no. You've cooled her down. In fact..."

It took five minutes and all the cajolery at my command to induce my
brother-in-law to continue his Danaidean task, until I had started the
engine and we were ready to move.

Then he whipped its cap on to the radiator and clambered into the car.

I was extremely uneasy, and said as much.

It was now a quarter to five. Pampeluna was some thirty miles away,
and Heaven only knew what sort of country lay before us. We were
nearly at the top of the pass, and, presumably, once