estination, no wise master would have given them permission to
go, unless they promised to be accompanied by a guide; for the ascent of
Appenfell, dangerous even in summer to all but those who well knew the
features of the mountain, became in winter a perilous and foolhardy
attempt. The boys themselves, when they started on their excursion, had
no conception of the amount or extent of the risk they ran. Seeing that
the morning gave promises of a bright and clear day, they had never
thought of taking into account the possibility of mists and storms.

The position in which they now found themselves was enough to make a
stout heart quail. By this time they were hopelessly enveloped in
palpable clouds, and could not see the largest objects a yard before
them. In fact, even to see each other they had to keep closely side by
side; for once, when Kenrick had separated from them for a little
distance, it was only by the sound of his shouts that they found him
again. After this, they crept on in perfect silence, each trying to
conceal from the other the terror which lay like frost on his own
spirits; unsuccessfully, for the tremulous sound which the quick
palpitation of their hearts gave to their breathing showed plainly
enough that all three of them recognised the frightfulness of their
danger.

Appenfell was one of those mountains, not unfrequent, which is on one
side abrupt and bounded by a wall of almost fathomless precipice, and on
the other descends to the plain in a cataract of billowy undulations.
It had one feature which, although peculiar, is by no means
unprecedented. At one point, where the huge rock wall towers up from
the ghastly depth of a broad ravine, there is a lateral ridge--not
unlike the Mickeldore of Scawfell Pikes--running right across the
valley, and connecting Appenfell with Bardlyn, another hill of much
lower elevation, towards which this ridge runs down with a long but
gradual slope. This edge was significantly called the Razor, and it was
so narrow that it would barely admit the passage of a single person
along its summit. It was occasionally passed by a few shepherds,
accustomed from earliest childhood to the hills, but no ordinary
traveller ever dreamed of braving its real dangers, for, even had the
path been broader, the horrible depth of fall on either side was quite
sufficient to render dizzy the steadiest head, and if a false step were
taken, the result, to an absolute certainty, was fr