The dogs had some trouble to drive out the sheep, and when they straggled through the opening Kit imagined the lambs went in front.

In a few moments the flock vanished, and he breathed hard as he followed their track up hill.

Now and then the dogs barked, but for the most part he heard nothing except the roar of the wind in the crags.

He hoped the dogs could find the path across the narrow tableland between two branching ghylls, because it was obvious that his judgment might be at fault.

However, there were the lambs; one could trust a Herdwick to return to its heaf.
When he reached the top the wind had blown away the snow, and he stood near the middle of a narrow belt of heath, with his feet sinking in a bog.