A
burst of laughter from below told them he had arrived safely, and
nothing would suit Bija but to do likewise, Roy being still too tight a
fit to slide quickly. In fact, the children were eager to climb up once
more and do it again, but Head-nurse said she could not hear of it;
their clothes were wet enough as it was; besides, it was most
unlady-like for a real Princess!
The days, therefore, did not pass so uncomfortably, though pressing
anxiety sat on Foster-father's honest face, and every time Roy returned
from a climb up to outer air he would ask him if he had seen anything.
"Nothing," Roy would reply, "and the snow wastes but little, we are so
high up."
At last one night, after the children were asleep, Foster-father
summoned a council of war. It would not be wise, he said, to remain
where they were, without making any effort at escape, until their
provisions were exhausted. Then they would be helpless. Now they still
had enough for two or three days, and it behooved them to make a
push--but whither?
"Not back on our steps," advised Old Faithful. "Firdoos Gita Makani
always said: 'No retreat till there is no advance.' Besides, see you, if
we go down, the snow will be melting and give us no foothold. But at
night the frost will hold on the pass. And it is but little farther to
the next shelter; for, see you, I have come twice this way from
Kandahar; but never the other way back.
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