"After all," said Shasta, "this road is bound to get somewhere."But that all depends on what you mean by somewhere. The road kept on getting somewhere in the sense that it got more and more trees, all dark and dripping, and to colder and colder air. And strange, icy winds kept blowing the mist past him though they never blew it away. If he had been used to mountain country he would have realized that this meant he was now very high up - perhaps right at the top of the pass. But Shasta knew nothing about mountains.
