Without stopping to hunt any longer for a trail over the top, the boys started down a ridge that appeared to intersect the road below. At first the snow was deep, and the traveling was bad, but the sun was warm and the air was still, and soon, as Raymond had predicted, they were in slush. That did not last long, but it was followed by a zone of mud. That, too, was soon past, and by the time the travelers reached the road, they were walking on dry ground. With exclamations of delight the boys threw themselves down in the warm sun, and stretching out at full length, ate a dry lunch with utmost relish. As soon as that was concluded they took the road again, with a desire to reach a level that would give a decidedly warmer climate for their next camp. The trail went down the tremendous mountain wall by a series of switchbacks. There would be a long zigzag, consisting of twelve or fifteen sharp angles, back and forth down a steep face of rock; then the trail would run off to one side across the heads of half a dozen gullies that were transformed below into deep and precipitous ravines; or perhaps it would descend for a distance at a less acute angle down the backbone of a long ridge. Nearly all the time, as the travelers descended, they were enraptured with a view of the magnificent panorama that was spread out before them. With all their experience of mountain travel they had never before seen anything to equal it. If they had ever crossed the Alps in early spring from Switzerland to Italy, they would have been supplied with a comparison, though the prospect before them was much grander and more extended than that afforded by the journey down the Alps. “I suppose,” said Sidney, as they were trotting down a zigzag with nothing to obstruct the view, “that those high mountains in the distance must be in Asia.” “Wouldn’t it be swell, Sid, to have topographic maps of this country! Do you think they have anything like our Geological Survey maps?” “That’s not likely, in a wild country like this.” “But we have maps of wild mountains.” “Yes, but that’s in the United States.” “Where I wish we were, this minute,” declared Raymond fervently. “I believe we’ve done our hardest work,” said Sidney, “so don’t get blue. Won’t it be fine, though, to get aboard a train at Tiflis!” “The finest will be a steamer on the Black Sea, and then home; think of that, Sid!” “I hope Turkey is not mixed up in the war. I have a sort of an idea that she controls the Black Sea, and unless she has joined Russia and England we may have trouble in getting out.” “What should we do, then?” asked Raymond. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Americans would be allowed through if anybody would.”