Evidently overtaken by a blizzard or sudden fog, or both, the Iceman was in a state of total exhaustion. In a gully in the rock, perhaps familiar to him from previous crossings of the pass, he sought what shelter he could from the bad weather. With his failing strength he settled down for the night. He deposited his axe, bow and backpack on the ledge of the rock. It is possible that he consumed here the last of his food store: a piece of tough dried ibex meat. Two bone splinters had inadvertently been left in the strip of meat as he cut it off: these he chewed off and spat out. Meanwhile it had grown dark. To press on might prove fatal. It was snowing ceaselessly, and in the gale the icy cold penetrated his clothes. A terrible fatigue engulfed his limbs. Between his will to survive and increasing indifference towards his physical danger he once more pulled himself together. He knew that to fall asleep meant death. He reeled forward a few more steps. He dropped his quiver. Below him there was only loose scree. He tripped and fell heavily against a boulder. The container with the hot embers slipped from his hand; his cap fell off. Again pain pierced the right side of his chest. He only wanted a short rest, but his need for sleep was stronger than his willpower. . . . He turned on to his left side to dull the pain. He laid his head on the rock. His senses numbed, he no longer noticed the awkward position of his folded ear. His left arm, its muscles relaxed and probably slightly bent at the elbow, lay in front of him. His right arm was almost extended and was hanging down forward. His feet rested one on the other; the left shoe under the right. Soon his clothes froze to the rough ground. He was no longer aware that he was freezing to death. Overnight the body froze stiff. Secondary Source: From “Who Killed the Iceman? Clues Emerge in a Very Cold Case” by Rod Nordland When the head of a small Italian museum called Detective Inspector Alexander Horn of the Munich Police, she asked him if he investigated cold cases. “Ye