"There are deep holes," said Mohammed, wading through the snow to my assistance. "If we fall down one of them we shall remain there, and in the summer the eagles will pick our bones. It will be better for all of us to walk and lead the horses," he continued. "Even then we shall have great difficulty in effecting a passage. The chief Zaptieh has been saying that it would be better if we were to return to Kotnu and try to cross the mountains to-morrow." The snow had recommenced falling; it was difficult to see what lay before us. However, we had accomplished more than half of the day's march. In all probability the path would soon become more difficult. I determined at all hazards to push on, and the more particularly as I had no time to waste, owing to my limited leave of absence. Forward we waded through the gradually-rising drifts. Each man followed his neighbour in Indian file; presently the leading Zaptieh who was engaged in sounding the path before him, buried the six-feet wand in the snow; he thrust his elbow down after the stick; there was still no bottom. We were off the track. A false step might at any moment send us down the chasm. A consultation took place between the Zaptiehs, the head man urging forcibly upon our party the necessity of returning. But when we faced the other way, the wind cut against our eyes with great violence. The particles of snow were so blinding that it was clearly much more dangerous to return than to proceed. "It is our fate!" remarked the chief Zaptieh to the comrade by his side. "Destruction seize the giaour who may be the cause of all our deaths!" said another. "Let him die of the plague!" added a third. This rather strong language was uttered in a loud tone, and as if the speakers did not care whether their observations met my ear or not. "I tell you what it is!" I cried rather sternly to my unruly followers, and at the same time drawing my revolver; "I cannot reach you with my whip; but if you make any more insulting remarks, I shall send a bullet in your direction to teach you manners!" "For the sake of heaven be quiet!" cried Mohammed to the Zaptiehs—for he, being directly in the line of fire, did not wish to expose himself as a shield to the delinquents. "There will be no baksheesh unless you are as docile as horses," continued my Turkish servant.