As the cold was intense my master made a coat from the skin of this goat and the ibex, which he wore with the fur inside. At the time I remember I thought human skin must be very poor protection against the cold.
On the next day, as I was following a very large goat up a sharp incline towards the peak, it suddenly disappeared from view behind a rock. In a few minutes I had reached the place, but the goat was nowhere to be seen. Then I observed a narrow fissure in the mountain side through which it must have gone. I thought I had him now for certain, as in his terror he had fled into a blind alley.
This was not so, however, for on investigation the fissure proved to lead into a roughly circular tunnel, down which I could dimly see the goat.
Its hoof-beats echoed and re-echoed till it sounded like twenty goats. I followed it for some way, but it seemed to know the twists and turns of the tunnel, and after turning a corner, before I had time to see where I was going, it darted off into a side turning leading off the main one.
I ran on for some little way and passed several tunnels which led off the one I was following. I think I passed five before I came to a place where the main passage split into four. Rapidly selecting one, I darted down it and charged full tilt into a very chilly and deep stream. Scrambling out I pursued my course until I realised that the goat must have escaped me.
I began to retrace my steps, and after crossing the stream I came to the place where the tunnels converged, and I wondered which one I had come by. I chose one, of course the wrong one, but I followed it until I saw a glint of light at the end.
Soon I emerged, but instead of finding myself on the familiar ground about half a mile from the tent, I was standing on the top of a pleasant grassy slope going down with a gentle incline to a small lake, fed by the stream into which I had fallen, which gurgled out into a little waterfall to my left.
About ten miles across this valley the real mountains extended in a vast unbroken line as far as I could see.
Then I understood that I must have gone right through the mountain, which was no doubt honeycombed by these tunnels. The idea came to me that if I could get back I could lead my master through by this way and save him the painful and slow ascent of the mountain, as he obviously intended to get over to this side.
So, turning, I went back by the path I had come, and I noticed that all the way it sloped upwards, which accounted for the lowness of the far end of the tunnel. As I went I thought it would be a good thing to follow my own tracks backwards and thus find a way out. The rock held the scent very badly, and as I was very used to my own smell I had a lot of trouble in following it.
Presently I came to a place where the paths met, and as I was determined not to go wrong again, I carefully noted all the distinguishing marks of the passage along which I had just come.
Then I cast around for my tracks again, and after finding them I wondered if these might be the ones that led to the stream or not. However, I took the chance, and following them up, I soon discovered that I was wrong again, and I felt quite lost.
The time was late afternoon, but I noticed that the sky was dark and I could not see the tent in the gloom which surrounded me.
I began to trot down to where I thought the tent would be about half a mile further, and as I went the sky became darker and I grew alarmed, for though I had been wandering for a long time in the tunnel, it was not nearly night time yet.
Then suddenly the wind rose, and a few flakes of snow fell in my face, and then all at once down came the snow. The wind blew a flurry of snow into my eyes and I was temporarily blinded, so brushing my paw over my face I pushed on.
I could hardly see a yard ahead, and the wind which was blowing into my face howled like an angry wolf, carrying away the sounds which I made to attract my master.
As I had twisted and turned so much in the tunnels I had quite lost my sense of direction which was usually so infallible, so after about twenty minutes struggling with the wind, I found myself at the brink of the precipice, still further from my master.
By now the wind had reached a terrible force, and for a little while it was all I could do to prevent myself from being blown over the edge.
Presently it abated a little, and I soon gained the shelter of a protecting boulder, and I sat down under the lee of it. The wind, however, returned with still greater force and the snow utterly shut out all the light, so I stayed behind the rock, but a powerful eddy of air kept covering me with snow, and if I had not been continually shaking it off I would have been buried in a very short time.
At length the day must have merged into night, but I noticed no difference, either in the light or in the fury of the storm.
Soon the snow heaped up in a huge drift on the other side of the rock, and at what I would judge to be about the middle of the night, the great drift became over tall and a small avalanche entirely buried me. I was almost suffocated before I had time to scramble out, and on doing so the wind raised me up into the air in spite of all my efforts to keep on my feet.
After carrying me a little way the wind dropped me into another snowdrift which had heaped up on the windward side of an even larger boulder. I burrowed through the snow to the other side, which was somewhat hollowed out like a shallow cave and gave excellent shelter.
The place seemed very familiar, and I wondered where I had seen it before — when suddenly I remembered this was the place where the tent had been, and looking round I saw the marks made by the tent pegs. I searched for the remains of a fire, but it was outside the little semi-circle of protection and was buried.
It was evident that my master had gone without me, but where, I wondered, had he gone — up the mountain? If so it was unlikely that he would survive such a storm. If he had gone down the mountain, sheltering among the smaller foothills, he might have lived through it; but then it would be impossible for me to find him. I thought of going back to the house if the storm ever finished, which seemed hardly likely.
It must have been nearly a hundred miles either south or west to my master’s house. I tried to recall our route on coming up to the mountains, and all the different ways which we had gone in four days, sometimes going on trail after game, and more than once making detours round lakes, but it was too much for my memory. After striving to collect my thoughts and failing, my senses left me and I sank into a sleep of utter exhaustion.
I did not wake up until the middle of the next day. The storm had ceased, and I started up with the intention of joining my master at once, but to my horror there was no track or traces for me to follow, for of course the snow had obliterated all of them for miles.
As it was freezing, a firm crust had formed over the top of the snow, so if I kept my feet well splayed out I could travel about with ease; but I feared that my master, with his boots, would sink into one of the deep drifts and never be able to get out. I searched for the least clue of his whereabouts all day without success, as I was afraid of going too far from the camp site, in case he might return.
Towards nightfall I became aware of my extreme hunger, so when I observed a troop of wild goats and mountain sheep coming down one of the dangerous paths (which they seemed to prefer) towards me, I ensconced myself in a hollow which I rapidly scooped out of the snow, and when they passed I darted out and seized a small fat one, which I took behind a small rock and there consumed.
When