The ground on which we travelled rose but slightly. As we continued our course the scenery became more gloomy and barren, and, except on the ground beneath our feet, scarcely a blade of grass or plant of any description was to be seen growing in the clefts of the dark and sombre rocks. The atmosphere, seldom warmed by the rays of the sun, felt chilly in the extreme, and depressed our spirits, and had it not been for the assurance of my father, that we should discover an outlet on the other side, some of the party would, I think, have turned back, under the belief that we should only arrive at last before some vast cavern, or towering cliff, beyond which all further progress would be barred. Even the Dominie, I saw, did not half like it, but he was too much attached to my father to hesitate about proceeding. Our chief anxiety was about water, as yet not a single cascade had we met with, nor the smallest rivulet trickling down the sides of the mountains. So lofty were the rocks, that we could nowhere see even the tops of the mountains above us. We concluded that we were at some distance from the snowy peak we had discovered the day before, which would probably have sent down a stream to afford us the water we required. We stopped to rest at noon, where the gorge opened out slightly and the ground bore a sufficient amount of grass to enable our horses to crop a scanty meal. As we were anxious to get into a more fertile region before nightfall, we did not remain longer than was necessary. The shades of evening came on far sooner than would have been the case in the plain. The cliffs rose on every hand, towering as high, or even higher, than at the entrance of the gorge. Unwilling to encamp in a place where we could get neither fire nor water, Mr Tidey and I volunteered to push on ahead, hoping that we might find a pleasanter spot for camping than in the narrow defile, even though we might not succeed in altogether emerging from the pass. We hurried on as long as a ray of light penetrated into the gorge, but at length it became so dark that we could scarcely see a yard before us. Were we to proceed further we might knock our heads against a rock or fall into some yawning chasm. "Stop, Mike!" said my companion, "better to suffer present evil, than to rush into greater we know not of. We must return to our friends, if we don't break our heads in the meantime, and advise them forthwith to come to a halt." So pitchy was the darkness, that we could not see the rocks on either hand, and we were afraid, should we stumble or turn round by any chance, that we might be going away from, instead of nearing our friends. In vain we looked up to catch sight of a star by which we might have guided ourselves, but not a single one could we see. "It won't do to halt here," observed the Dominie; "depend upon it, the captain has come to a stand-still long ago."