I was perplexed, but hopeful. I believed that help of some kind was near. I sat down on a rock and expended much ammunition. The snow was still coming down in the same gentle undecided way, but I was compelled to stop between shots and brush the damp, white patches off my clothing.
Presently the answering halloo sounded very near me, and I ceased to fire, replying with a shout.
Two large dogs scampered through the bushes, and, approaching me, began to bark as if they had brought game to bay. A strong voice ordered them to be quiet, and then the owner of dogs and voice came into view.
I had expected the usual mountaineer, sallow, angular, and shabby, but I saw at once that this man was different. The clean-featured, keen, intelligent face could not belong to one of the ignorant dwellers in cabins. He was tall, thin, and past sixty, well dressed in a gray uniform, upon which the brass buttons shone with peculiar brightness. I had seen such uniforms before, but they were relics, and men do not often wear them nowadays.
He approached me, walking in the upright fashion of a military man, and showed much strength and activity for one so far advanced in years.
"I must apologize for my dogs, sir," he said. "They see strangers but seldom, and when they do see one they must lift up their voices and announce it to all the world."
"The sight of your dogs, and still more that of their master, is very welcome to me," I replied.
He bowed with ancient grace and thanked me for my courtesy.
"I must ask your help," I said. "I've lost my way, and I've bruised my ankle so badly on a stone that I fear I cannot walk many more miles."