en from the edge of the glacier, were now being dashed over the
hard face of the rock into minute fragments.

The white stream could be seen to decrease perceptibly in size, from a
broad sheet to a wide band, a narrow ribbon, a line, a hair and then
disappear altogether. While the distant mountains were still growling,
mumbling and playing shuttlecock with the echoes a timid chief hare went
hopping across a green half-acre of grass at the damp edge of a melting
snow patch in my path. Overhead a golden eagle sailed with a small
mammal in its talons; strange reddish-colored bumblebees busied
themselves in a bunch of flowers growing in a crevice in the rocks at my
feet.

But my eye could discern no larger creatures in this Alpine pasture
land; not only could I see no sheep or goats, but not a sign of my
friend. He had vanished from the face of the picture as completely as if
the master artist had erased him with one mighty sweep of his paint
brush.

When I viewed the lonely landscape with no human being in sight, I
confess to experiencing a creepy sensation and a strong inclination to
flee, but I knew not in what direction to run. I was in a rough
basin-shaped depression among the mountain peaks, and I sat on a large
rock with my back to a black chasm. From my elevated position I could
see a long distance. Strange fancies creep into one's head on such
occasions and play havoc with previous well-founded beliefs. To me, poor
fool of a tenderfoot, Big Pete had melted into the thinnest of thin air,
such as is only found in high altitudes, and somehow I wondered whether
the Wild Hunter had had anything to do with it.

How could I tell that I myself was not invisible?

I hauled myself up short there for I realized that such folly was not
good to have tumbling around in my brain. I figuratively pulled myself
back to earth, and to steady my nerves reached into my pack and brought
out several hard bits of bannock that I had stored there. I was
dreadfully hungry and I munched these with enthusiasm, meanwhile
keeping a sharp eye out for Big Pete, and between times making the
acquaintance of the little chief hare who, as he scuttled about among
the rocks, looked me over curiously.

A short distance to my left was a huge obsidian cliff, the glassy walls
of which rose in a precipice to a considerable height. On account of its
peculiar formation, this crag of natural glass had several times
attracted my attention, and on any other