Could I have escaped them?
I had been in the shadow of the trees for the first part, and they might have lost sight of me and concluded that I had avoided the glen or tried one of the faces.

Before me, I remember, there stretched the upper glen, a green cup-shaped hollow with the sides scarred by ravines.

There was a high waterfall in one of them which was white as snow against the red rocks.

My wits must have been shaky, for I took the fall for a snowdrift, and wondered sillily why the Berg had grown so Alpine.
A faint spasm of hope took me into that green cup.

The bracken was as thick as on the Pentlands, and there was a multitude of small lovely flowers in the grass.