222 The Mountain Sbeep 



me over the narrow shoulder to the north, where 

 I was soon walking in long patches of snow. 

 Across these in front of me went the tracks of 

 the mamma and her lamb, the sage and gentle 

 guide with the little novice who was learning 

 the mountains and their dangers; across these 

 patches I followed them for several miles, because 

 my way happened to be theirs. No doubt they 

 saw me sometimes ; but I never saw them again. 

 I hope no harm ever came to them; for I like 

 to think of these two, these members of an inno- 

 cent and charming race that we are making away 

 with, as remaining unvexed by our noise and 

 destruction, remaining serene in the freedom that 

 lives among their pinnacles of solitude. 



