From Madrid we journeyed to San Sebastian, where we visited the King's summer palace, and saw his Majesty. We happened here on a Sunday, and we did not miss the opportunity of seeing another bull fight. San Sebastian is the most fashionable watering-place in Spain and there all the nobles and wealthy people of Portugal and Spain spend the hot season. Here we spent several days in preparing for our journey on foot across the Pyrenees Mountains. I had always wanted to cross the Alps or Pyrenees on foot, so when the opportunity was presented, I surely was not going to let it go by. Securing heavy walking shoes, suitable clothing, heavy walking sticks, we boarded the train at San Sebastian and alighted at the foot of the hills, where the road starts its winding way across the rugged slopes. Our only arms consisted of a couple of daggers, which we purchased at Toledo and a thirty-eight Colt's revolver. These lofty mountains and rugged foothills are inhabited by a lawless and murderous set of treacherous Spaniards, who strike whenever they have an opportunity. Not heeding wild stories, we set out upon a journey calculated to test to the utmost the metal of your companion and one's endurance. The first day carried us into the heart of the wilderness, where on every side one could see nothing but lofty crags covered with large boulders and shaggy grass. [Illustration: "The First Day carried us into the Heart of the Wilderness where on Every Side one could see Nothing but Lofty Crags." (_Wanderlust._)] We employed a guide for a day to conduct us safely to the beaten trail, and four days later we were safely settled in the little village of Blanto, on the frontier of France. Although we had put up with a great many hardships, we enjoyed our tramp, and we only wished our journey had occupied twenty days instead of five, for we felt better each succeeding day, tramping over the rocky pathways. Two nights were spent on the ground under the shadow of the cork trees, while the other nights were spent in huts along the way. During the tramp our food consisted, principally, of bread, goat's milk and fruit. One night while sleeping out we were alarmed by the approach of some sort of big animal, which persisted on making our acquaintance. By firing the revolver several times we succeeded in frightening it away, after which we went back to sleep, only to be awakened in the early morning by a Spanish goat herder, who insisted that we had killed one of his dogs. The dead animal proved to be our visitor of the previous night. At Blanto we made preparation for our railway journey to Paris. August found us in the gay city of Paris, where we chanced to meet again two of our friends of the cattle boat, Roy Saunders and Philip McDuff.