The horses had enough trouble just getting to the notch. The other side was worse-a steep declivity. Partly the trail crossed treacherous scree that by itself prohibited horses, and partly it crossed open sideslopes, mostly of bare rock, almost too steep for burros. The way was marked by summer cairns, scattered and minimal, mostly just two or three rocks tall.
They had no choice but to leave the horses behind, and travel afoot. Macurdy would have set the animals free, but if he did, they’d soon find the chalet, and the herd girls there would stable or hobble them. Then, if soldiers came searching, they’d know, and capture would be probable.
So he had the others wait, resting, and led the horses back to the last patch of forest, shading a remnant of old snow, dirty with fallen needles. There he took them behind a thickly limbed spruce blowdown, some hundred feet from the trail, tied their reins to branches, and pumped a plasma charge into each beautiful head. It was not the easiest thing he’d ever done. Then he cast his spell of concealment over them, uncertain how long it would last.
Hopefully the herd girls would tell any soldiers that no one could ride horses over the mountain, and after a search of the woods around the pasture, they’d go back. Unless, of course, they found the prints of shod horses, and he’d skirted the trail itself to minimize the risk.
So presumably, if soldiers followed it to the notch, they’d miss the carcasses. Then, seeing what the trail was like on the south side, and assuming their quarry was mounted, they’d conclude that this route had been a false lead.
Unless carrion birds found the horses, and drew the soldiers’ attention. He’d seen ravens earlier that day, and an eagle soaring. He rejoined the others and they started down, all of them walking except on the scree slopes, where Macurdy carried Lotta on his shoulders. Instead of ankle-high SS boots, she wore sandals buckled on with straps; the sharp, frost-broken scree would have crippled her. Carrying her on his shoulders gave him a higher center of gravity than was safe, and made a crick in his neck, but there was no place for her on his back. He was carrying the packframe, with the two large, quilted and belted horse blankets stuffed into the drop bag. And neither Edouard nor Berta was physically up to carrying Lotta or the pack, at least not more than briefly. Each carried one of the smaller woolen blankets, rolled, and tied over a shoulder.
At least, Macurdy told himself, it was downhill today. Tough on the feet, of course, but easier on the thighs and buttocks than the uphill grind they’d face later.
Finally they crossed the forested lower slope, and turned west up the canyon bottom, guiding on Macurdy’s map, keeping to the trees when possible. He didn’t want some herd girl to see them, even though the route was unlikely.
Later they crossed the canyon, wading a swift icy stream, to reach the descending side canyon Macurdy had decided on. It too had a trail, that led steeply up and up to two large high meadows occupying basins, the lower of them with a cow camp. More and more, Lotta rode on Macurdy’s shoulders, her trust in him seeming absolute now, though still she didn’t speak. Each of the fugitives, even Lotta, had blistered feet from hiking on steep slopes, but they pushed steadily on, no one complaining. Macurdy had promised to heal them when they stopped at day’s end. Edouard, although he tried, couldn’t entirely believe him, but knew that Berta believed, so he hoped. Otherwise-there’d be time to heal in Switzerland.
As they got higher, the forested and north-facing stretches had old snow, newly trampled by cattle being driven to the high pastures. Eventually, well up on the mountain, they reached the first grassy bowl, with deep old drifts around the edges. At the lower edge was a set of small, steep-roofed buildings. The elevation was considerably higher than they reached that morning, even at the notch.
It was time to replenish their food supply. The stolen bread and cheese were mostly gone, and there were hard miles to hike before they came to the villages and farms along the road to Liechtenstein.