But he could not make out any tracks in the drifted snow, and there didn’t seem to be any real trail, though there was a break in the bushes here. He’d start that way. But he hadn’t gone far when he was brought up short by a great boulder in the way. This certainly could not be the trail. He went back and started again, but this time a thicket of bushes blocked the path. Perhaps, after all, he had come the wrong way. Perhaps those three cabins were not the ones Bergel had meant. His heart was thumping. What if he was lost in these mountains?