the consciousness of something wrong—reluctantly I opened my eyes, and a startling apparition nearly took away my breath: framed by the window against the background of star-lit sky, was a huge, red head with branching horns—a long tongue was in the very act of sweeping up my blanket—the cold muzzle and heavy breath were close against my face. I gave a scream and sat up with a start, and, of course, at that critical point the bottom fell out of the bed again! The enemy hurriedly withdrew his head and made off. The clatter wakened Transome, who drowsily murmured: “What’s the matter now?” and went to sleep again; but I got no more that night.
At 3.30 I got up, and having raked the embers together, was thankful to find the breeze had dropped, and we could have a fire; but all the breakfast I could offer was a little cream and hot water, and some bread. Then I caught Tom (being the faster horse of the two) and tied him ready at the door, and stood for a few minutes looking out.
The sky was very clear, and a cold white light was coming up behind the eastern mountains. It was all so still, The cattle had wandered far away down the river-bed, and I could hear the river making a soft singing to itself—except for an early lark, no other sound broke the utter peace.
I was all alone in this strange, half-enchanted world. The snows on Mount Aspiring looked grey and uncanny in the dusk, but every moment the light was growing. And then the sun rose behind
