Go back to our Noyon, wait for the warmer days and then.

.

.

." I did not listen further to the Soyot but turned back to the fire, which I could hardly see through the blinding snow.

Fearing our guide might run away, I ordered a sentry to be stationed for the night to watch him.
Later in the night I was awakened by the sentry, who said to me: "Maybe I am mistaken, but I think I heard a rifle." What could I say to it?
Maybe some stragglers like ourselves were giving a sign of their whereabouts to their lost companions, or perhaps the sentry had mistaken for a rifle shot the sound of some falling rock or frozen ice and snow.