Mountaineers in distress fly to their mountains.

It is a part of their nostalgia.

I know it from within, too: if _I_ were in poor Hugo LeGeyt's place, what do you think I would do?
Why, hide myself at once in the greenest recesses of our Carnarvonshire mountains." "What an extraordinary insight into character you have!" I cried.
"You seem to divine what everybody's action will be under given circumstances." She paused, and held her parasol half poised in her hand.

"Character determines action," she said, slowly, at last.

"That is the secret of the great novelists.