Sheltering his lips and nostrils with his hands,
Then all was changed; and sallying with their pack
Into that blank of Nature, they became
Unearthly beings. ‘Anselm, higher up,
Just where it drifts, a dog howls loud and long,
And now, as guided by a voice from Heaven,
Digs with his feet. That noble vehemence
Whose can it be but his who never erred?
A man lies underneath! Let us to work!
But who descends Mont Velan? ’Tis La Croix.