After the first day, when it was found that they were not at any of the shepherds' huts scattered among the hills, all hopes of finding them alive ceased. So hopeless was it considered, that few parties went out on the three following days; but on the fifth, when the snow-storm ceased and the sun shone out, numbers of men again tramped the hills in the vague hope of finding some sign of the missing boys; they returned disheartened. The snow was two feet deep everywhere, twenty in many of the hollows. The next day but few went out, for the general feeling was, that the bodies could not be discovered until the thaw came, and at present it was freezing sharply. Among those who still kept up the search were several of the boys' school-fellows. They had not been permitted to join while the snow-storm continued, and were therefore fresh at the work. A party of four kept together, struggling through the deep snow-drifts, climbing up the hills, and enjoying the fun, in spite of the saddening nature of their errand. On arriving at the brow of a deep valley five miles from home, they agreed that they would go no farther, as it was not likely that the missing boys could have wandered so far from their track. That they had in fact done so was due to a sudden change in the direction of the wind; it had been driving in their faces when they started, and with bent down heads they had struggled against it, unconscious that it was sharply changing its direction. "Just let us have a look down into the bottom," one of the boys said; "there may be a shepherd's hut here." Nothing, however, was seen, save a smooth, white surface of snow. "What is that?" one exclaimed suddenly. "Look, there is a little red flag flying down there--come along." The boys rushed down the hill at full speed. "Don't all go near the flag," one said; "you may be treading on their bodies." They arrived within ten yards of the flag, in which they soon recognised a red pocket-handkerchief. They were silent now, awestruck at the thought that their companions were lying dead beneath. "Perhaps it is not theirs," the eldest of the party said presently. "Anyhow I had better take it off and carry it home." Treading cautiously and with a white face, for he feared to feel beneath his feet one of the bodies of his friends, he stepped, knee-deep in the snow-drift, to the flag. He took the little stick in his hand to pluck it up; he raised it a foot, and then gave a cry of astonishment and started back. "What is the matter?" the others asked. "It was pulled down again," he said in awestruck tones. "I will swear it was pulled down again." "Oh, nonsense!" one of the others said; "you are dreaming." "I am not," the first replied positively; "it was regularly jerked in my hand." "Can they be alive down there?" one suggested. "Alive! How can they be alive after five days, twenty feet deep in the snow? Look at the flag!"