may possibly doubt this. Yet it _is a fact_ that a white horse was thus
mistaken for a distant lake!

The revulsion of feeling was tremendous. Everyone sighed, and Mr
Sudberry groaned, for at that moment the thought of poor Peter recurred
to his mind. Yet there remained a strange feeling of kindliness in the
breast of each towards that white horse. It was an undeniable proof of
the existence of animal life in those wild regions, a fact which the
deep solitude of all around had tempted them madly to doubt--unknown
even to themselves. Besides, it suggested the idea of an owner to the
horse; and by a natural and easy process of reasoning they concluded
that the owner must be a human being, and that, when at home, he
probably dwelt in a house. What more probable than that the house was
even then within hail?

Acting on the idea, Mr Sudberry shouted for two minutes with all his
might, the only result of which was to render himself extremely hoarse.
Then George tried it, and so did Fred, and Jacky awoke and began to
whimper and to ask to be let down. He also kicked a little, but, being
very tired, soon fell asleep again.

"You _must_ let me carry him now!" said Fred.

"I won't!"

Fred tried force, but George was too strong for him, so they went on as
before, Lucy leaning somewhat heavily on her father's arm.

Presently they heard the sound of water. It filled them with mitigated
joy and excitement, on the simple principle that _anything_ in the shape
of variety was better than _nothing_. A clap of thunder would have
raised in their depressed bosoms a gleam of hope. A flash of lightning
would have been a positive blessing. Mr Sudberry at once suggested
that it must be a stream, and that they could follow its course--wade
down its bed, if necessary--till they should arrive at "something!"
Foolish man! he had been long enough in the Highlands by that time to
have known that to walk down the bed of a mountain-burn was about as
possible as to walk down the shaft of a coal-mine. They came to the
edge of its banks, however, and, looking over, tried to pierce its
gloom. There was a pale gleam of white foam--a rumbling, rustling sound
beneath, and a sensation of moisture in the atmosphere.

"It rains!" said Mr Sudberry.

"I rather think it's the spray of a fall!" observed George.

Had Mr Sudberry known the depth of the tremendous gulf into which he
was peering, and the steep cliff on the edge of which he stood,