And what of Bonar himself?  He might at that instant be miles away from any human habitation; it might be days before a human being chanced to pass that way!  Would his body confront some wandering shepherd or some sportsman months hence, when the snows had gone, and, perhaps—­horrible thought, yet possible to be realized!—­after carrion birds had made their onslaught on the foul thing it had become?

Be sure he called himself every kind of idiot for venturing on such a fool’s errand at such a time.  But that did not warm his shivering limbs or infuse patience into his almost despairing heart.  The cold was intense.  He was obliged at last to move away from his shelter—­such as it was—­and in spite of the thick snow beneath his feet, and the hurrying flakes still noiselessly but relentlessly falling, to trample some kind of pathway in which he might pace backwards and forwards to keep the blood circulating in his veins.

It was not quite dark, but the gray curtain of falling snow shut out everything from his vision; no sound could be heard but the rush of the wind over the slopes, and an occasional wail nearer at hand, as it swished round a corner of the rocks behind him.  He dare not attempt to climb higher, nor dare he descend.  What unexplored expanses of moorland might lie beyond, to lure him farther away from the chance of shelter or rescue?  What hidden pitfalls might not lurk below, to trap his inexperienced feet and hurl him to his death?

Warmed by his exercise, he crept back into his recess to await the possibility of some cessation of the storm.  Busied with anxious thoughts, he failed to notice the gradual lessening of the snow-flakes and the lull in the wind beyond the rocks.  It was only when the moon shone out clearly once more that he perceived that the storm was over.

Courage returned at once.  He left his shelter and tried to find the direction of the upward path.  Light had dispelled his fears.  It was better to trust himself to the dangers of the higher level than to risk a fall into some crevice on the downward way.  Before his eyes lay stretched out a vast snowfield!  More dazzlingly white in the moonlight than before, a thick carpet of snow lessened every inequality of surface; it softened every hard outline, while it filled up depressions.  Sounding every step as he advanced, he trod slowly upwards; plowing now and again into drifts waist-deep, staggering over submerged bowlders and stony heaps whose unexpected existence would often imperil his balance, he managed to climb considerably higher.  But his progress was necessarily slow.  He kept as near as possible to the rocky ridge which had sheltered him; for on his other hand the ground sloped downwards in a steep gradient, and the treacherous snow might well conceal many a deadly peril.