But as he ran downward and downward the frost film on the snow became less and less firm.  The sun was rising now, and even its earliest rays seemed to melt his foothold, and he began to sink at every step.  The sledge, however, appeared from the faint marks it left to have slid on without difficulty.  No doubt, he thought, because of the children’s light weight, and because the platform between the swords and scabbards which supported them was so large; many times larger than his own feet!  Why, even Tumbu’s four broad, furry paws had sunk into the snow a little, and would doubtless have sunk more but for the pace at which he must have been going.

The sledge was the thing!  How clever it was of Old Faithful to remember Firdoos Gita Makani’s way of saving his horse; but after all, when one came to think of it, the thanks were due to Babar the brave for being a real King, kind-hearted to animals.

And now Roy’s task became dangerous as well as hard, for every moment lessened the firmness of the ice film.  And he was now running down a shallow valley, which was completely blocked up by drift, except in the very middle, where every now and again you got a glimpse of a roaring torrent—­kept unfrozen by its snowy covering—­hollowing its way downward; but for the most part it was invisible, the only sign of it being a roar, a tremble beneath your feet.  Thus he was, as it were, on a snow bridge, of which the surface might at any moment give way.  And that meant certain death in the dark pools below.  In one place, indeed, he was all but lost; however, a wild leap landed him on safe ground, and with a gasp of fear, not for himself, but for the children ahead of him, he ran on, comforted by the sight of the sledge track going on and on.

After a while he had to cease running from sheer fatigue; but still he plodded on, telling himself that even half an hour would have made a difference in the snow.  That where he found danger, the children might have found safety; and always before him that track of the scabbard-sledge showed him that so far, at any rate, all had gone well.

And then, as he turned a sharp curve in the shallow, snow-covered valley, he saw a little below him something that made him turn sick with fear.  It was the sledge, empty, deserted!  A second glance, however, showed him that it was not overset.  Those who had been in it must have left it of their own accord; and the cause of this was soon made clear.  Within a few yards the snow ended and a rocky descent began, down which the sledge could not have gone.  So either Tumbu or the children had been wise; and they were still in front of him, but how far off who could tell?  The sun was already high, hours must have passed since he first started in chase; but now that they were on foot there was some chance of overtaking them before anything dreadful happened.