As there was some moonlight that night, Richard determined to make the most of it, and the weary hussars were forced to push on. They had but just begun the really arduous part of their journey. The path led upward and was very steep. The fir trees became fewer, and in their stead began to appear juniper trees, of good, sturdy growth at first, but ever becoming smaller, until at last they were no larger than bramble bushes. When the sun rose over the mountain-tops in front, it hung lustreless and shrouded in mist. The guide began to hint that a snow-storm was in prospect. All vegetation disappeared as they climbed higher; not even a blade of grass showed itself on the bare mountainside; no sign of man or beast or bird greeted the eye; it was all death's kingdom, a landscape of tombstones, the home of the clouds, whither no sound of herdsman's horn, or hunter's rifle, or bell of sheep or goat ever penetrated. Toward noon, as the hussars were descending into a ravine, a dense mist began to rise from below. "If it reaches us we shall have a long resting spell," remarked the guide to Richard. "Let us hasten down into the ravine, where there is brushwood and we can at least make a fire if the weather is bad." The mist rose until it had quite enveloped the band of horsemen. The clouds were returning to their domain, and were asking the intruders by what right they were there. Their challenge had to be heeded, as it became thenceforth impossible to see the way. The guide proposed to go on ahead for a few hundred paces, promising to call back to the others if the path proved to be safe. A quarter of an hour's anxious waiting followed, while the cold mist powdered every man's beard and hair with hoar frost. Still failing to hear any call from below, Richard descended a few steps and shouted to the guide. No answer. Hungry, thirsty, shivering, the hussars stood waiting. "Follow me," commanded Richard, and he proceeded to lead his men, as good luck might guide him, down the mountain. All dismounted and led their horses after them. The fog continued to wrap them about as they descended, but at length they reached a thick growth of juniper bushes. "We must camp here for the night," declared Richard, and bade his men kindle fires. It was already growing dark. Possibly the sun was still shining up on the heights, but down there in the dense fog it was dark. Brushwood was at hand in plenty, so that the hussars were at least sure not to freeze. They hobbled their horses and left them. Fodder there was none to give them, but the riders themselves were no better off. The hussars lighted their fires and gathered about them, tired nearly to death and longing for one thing above all else,--sleep. Richard gave orders that one man should remain awake at each fire to tend it; then he wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down by his fire.