Next morning the enemy had disappeared: and Hannibal, having effected a junction with his cavalry and baggage, led his men towards the head of the pass, without falling in again with any important muster of the natives, though he was harassed by some of them from time to time; who seized favourable opportunities, now on his van and now on his rear, of carrying off some of his baggage. His best protection was his elephants; on whatever parts of the line they were placed the enemy never ventured to approach, being terrified at the unwonted appearance of the animals. The ninth day’s march brought him to the head of the pass: and there he encamped for two days, partly to rest his men and partly to allow stragglers to come up. Whilst they were there, many of the horses who had taken fright and run away, and many of the beasts of burden that had got rid of their loads, unexpectedly appeared: they had followed the tracks of the army and now joined the camp. [Sidenote: 9th November.] +54.+ But by this time, it being nearly the period of the setting of the Pleiads, the snow was beginning to be thick on the heights; and seeing his men in low spirits, owing both to the fatigue they had gone through, and that which still lay before them, Hannibal called them together and tried to cheer them by dwelling on the one possible topic of consolation in his power, namely the view of Italy: which lay stretched out in both directions below those mountains, giving the Alps the appearance of a citadel to the whole of Italy. By pointing therefore to the plains of the Padus, and reminding them of the friendly welcome which awaited them from the Gauls who lived there, and at the same time indicating the direction of Rome itself, he did somewhat to raise the drooping spirits of his men. [Sidenote: The descent.] Next day he began the descent, in which he no longer met with any enemies, except some few secret pillagers; but from the dangerous ground and the snow he lost almost as many men as on the ascent. For the path down was narrow and precipitous, and the snow made it impossible for the men to see where they were treading, while to step aside from the path, or to stumble, meant being hurled down the precipices. The troops however bore up against the fatigue, having now grown accustomed to such hardships; but when they came to a place where the path was too narrow for the elephants or beasts of burden to pass,—and which, narrowed before by landslips extending about a stade and a half, had recently been made more so by another landslip,—then once more despondency and consternation fell upon the troops. Hannibal’s first idea was to avoid this _mauvais pas_ by a détour, but this route too being made impossible by a snow-storm, he abandoned the idea. [Sidenote: A break in the road.]