fire at the mouth of the cave smudged and smouldered. The rock bed was hard and cold. There was nothing to eat, nothing to drink, nothing to see; all around stretched the slope of the mountain, black and white and silent and lifeless—and cold, cold, cold.
Nobody slept much, as they all lay huddled close to each other for mutual warmth. They only dozed shiveringly, afraid to move for fear of losing what little warmth they were making.
It seemed to Stub that he had just dropped off, at last, when he was aroused.
The lieutenant was standing outside the cave. Daylight had come.
"Up, men," the lieutenant cried. "See this view! Oh, doctor! Be quick. It's glorious."
They piled out, with sundry grunts and groans over muscles stiffened by yesterday's work and by the hard bed. The lieutenant had spoken truly. The sky overhead was flushed rosily with sunrise—a clear day, here; but the storm still raged down below. The clouds there extended, level, in a thick layer of drab and white and pink, closing off the plains world from the mountain world.
"And yonder is the top, boys." The lieutenant pointed. "It's nearer than we thought. Let's try
