mforted 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.

In his hurry Roy almost flung himself from rock to rock down the
descent; but he had to pause to take off his fur coat, for in this
sheltered spot the sun beat shadelessly, the snow melted as he passed,
the stones ran with moisture, and in the crannies of the rocks young
green things were everywhere starting into growth. The past storm of
bitter cold had ended winter; spring had begun. And now the rushing
torrent, escaping finally from its snowy blanket, dashed over the
boulders beside him, carrying with it great blocks of melting snow.

On and on he went, thinking the descent would never end, till at a turn
he saw below him a tiny valley, just a sort of cup in the hills, through
which the stream rushed, sparkling in the sunshine. The banks were still
brown, but they were patched with great beds of rose-pink primula, blue
gentian, and yellow dog pansies. And on a perfect carpet of these sat
three dark figures! Never in his life was Roy so overjoyed. He forgot
his fatigue, and ran on until he could plainly see Princess Bakshee Bani
Begum making cowslip balls out of the pink primulas, the Heir-to-Empire
contentedly munching a cold hearth cake, and giving bits of it to Tumbu,
who, with his head cocked on one side, had evidently heard Roy's distant
step. The next instant a furious