In due course we reached it safely.

Once a mass of snow as large as a church swept down just in front of us, and once a great boulder loosened from the mountain rushed at us suddenly like an attacking lion, or the stones thrown by Polyphemus at the ship of Odysseus, and, leaping over our heads, vanished with an angry scream into the depths beneath.

But we took little heed of these things: our nerves were deadened, and no danger seemed to affect them.
There was the end of the road, and there were our own footprints and the impress of the yak's hoofs in the snow.

The sight of them affected me, for it seemed strange that we should have lived to look upon them again.

We stared over the edge of the precipice.