The sun more and more frequently broke through the scudding clouds.

We were traveling upon a high, snow-covered plateau, where in one place the wind blew it clean and in another piled it high with drifts which caught our horses and held them so that they could hardly extricate themselves at times.

We had to dismount and wade through the white piles up to our waists and often a man or horse was down and had to be helped to his feet.

At last the descent began and at sunset we stopped in the small larch grove, spent the night at the fire among the trees and drank the tea boiled in the water carried from the open mountain brook.

In various places we came across the tracks of our recent antagonists.
Everything, even Nature herself and the angry demons of Darkhat Ola, had helped us: but we were not gay, because again before us lay the dread uncertainty that threatened us with new and possibly destructive dangers..