"A word I would have wished to add later to your Alpine phrase book. It means a storm, a blizzard." "Should we not return at once in that event?" "What? Who said just now she was not afraid?" "But a storm in such a place!" "These fellows smell a _tourmente_ in every little cloud from the southwest. We may have some wind and a light snowfall, and that will be an experience for you. Surely you can trust me not to run any real risk?" "Oh, yes. I do, indeed. But I have read of people being caught in these storms and suffering terribly." "Not on the Forno, I assure you. I don't wish to minimize the perils of your first ascent; but it is only fair to say that this is an exhibition glacier. If it was nearer town you would find an orchestra in each amphitheater up there, with sideshows in every couloir. Jesting apart, you are absolutely safe with Barth and me, not to mention the irrepressible gentleman who carries our provisions." Helen was fully alive to the fact that a woman who joins a mountaineering party should not impose her personal doubts on men who are willing to go on. She flourished her ice ax bravely, and cried, "Excelsior!" In the next instant she regretted her choice of expression. The moral of Longfellow's poem might be admirable, but the fate of its hero was unpleasantly topical. Again Bower laughed. "Ah!" he said. "Will you deny now that I am a first rate receiver of wireless messages?" She had no breath left for a quip. Barth was hurrying, and the thin air was beginning to have its effect. When an unusually smooth stretch of ice permitted her to take her eyes from the track for a moment she looked back to learn the cause of such haste. To her complete astonishment, the Maloja Pass and the hills beyond it were dissolved in a thick mist. A monstrous cloud was sweeping up the Orlegna Valley. As yet, it was making for the Muretto Pass rather than the actual ravine of the Forno; but a few wraiths of vapor were sailing high overhead, and it needed no weatherwise native to predict that ere long the glacier itself would be covered by that white pall. She glanced at Bower. He smiled cheerfully. "It is nothing," he murmured. "I really don't care," she said. "One does not shirk an adventure merely because it is disagreeable. The pity is that all this lovely sunshine must vanish." "It will reappear. You will be charmed with the novelty in an hour or less." "Is it far to the hut?" "Hardly twenty minutes at our present pace." A growl from Barth stopped their brief talk. Another huge crevasse yawned in front. There was an ice bridge, with snow, like others they had crossed; but this was a slender structure, and the leader stabbed it viciously with the butt of his ax before he ventured on it. The others kept the rope taut, and he crossed safely. They followed. As Helen gained the further side she heard Bower's chuckle: "Another thrill!" "I am growing quite used to them," she said.