It was a long road to my cache, but there were no two ways of it.  My only hope was to sit tight in the glen, and it might involve a wait of days.  To wait I must have food, and, though it meant relinquishing guard for a matter of six hours, the risk had to be taken.  I set off at a brisk pace with a very depressed mind.

From the map it seemed that a short cut lay over a pass in the range.  I resolved to take it, and that short cut, like most of its kind, was unblessed by Heaven.  I will not dwell upon the discomforts of the journey.  I found myself slithering among screes, climbing steep chimneys, and travelling precariously along razor-backs.  The shoes were nearly rent from my feet by the infernal rocks,which were all pitted as if by some geological small-pox.  When at last I crossed the divide, I had a horrible business getting down from one level to another in a gruesome corrie, where each step was composed of smooth boiler-plates.  But at last I was among the bogs on the east side, and came to the place beside the road where I had fixed my cache.

The faithful Amos had not failed me.  There were the provisions—­a couple of small loaves, a dozen tins, and a bottle of whisky.  I made the best pack I could of them in my waterproof, swung it on my stick, and started back, thinking that I must be very like the picture of Christian on the title-page of Pilgrim’s Progress.

I was liker Christian before I reached my destination—­Christian after he had got up the Hill Difficulty.  The morning’s walk had been bad, but the afternoon’s was worse, for I was in a fever to get back, and, having had enough of the hills, chose the longer route I had followed the previous day.  I was mortally afraid of being seen, for I cut a queer figure, so I avoided every stretch of road where I had not a clear view ahead.  Many weary detours I made among moss-hags and screes and the stony channels of burns.  But I got there at last, and it was almost with a sense of comfort that I flung my pack down beside the stream where I had passed the night.

I ate a good meal, lit my pipe, and fell into the equable mood which follows upon fatigue ended and hunger satisfied.  The sun was westering, and its light fell upon the rock-wall above the place where I had abandoned my search for the spoor.

As I gazed at it idly I saw a curious thing.

It seemed to be split in two and a shaft of sunlight came through between.  There could be no doubt about it.  I saw the end of the shaft on the moor beneath, while all the rest lay in shadow.  I rubbed my eyes, and got out my glasses.  Then I guessed the explanation.  There was a rock tower close against the face of the main precipice and indistinguishable from it to anyone looking direct at the face.  Only when the sun fell on it obliquely could it be discovered.  And between the tower and the cliff there must be a substantial hollow.