This forcible manner of reasoning touched the escort, their murmurs ceased and their courage revived.
On the 9th, they scaled another mountain, and the first soldiers who reached the top uttered shouts of joy, for in the horizon appeared the plain so long lost to view, an immense plain, surrounded by wooded hills, with a black, confused mass in the midst of it, a village no doubt. To reach this promised land a descent had to be made into a valley, and a corresponding ascent accomplished on the other side of it up a last mountain, comparatively speaking insignificant, which now alone stood in the way of the caravan.
M. Desrioux, when he had come up to the leading men of the escort, lost no time in scanning the horizon through his telescope, and he made out that an important village was situated on one of the sides of the plain. After a few moments he thought, also, that he could not only distinguish habitations, but groups of human beings as well.
"See what you can make of it," said he, handing the telescope to M. de Pommerelle.
"Yes," said the latter, "the black specks you point out to me appear to move and change their places—for all the world like an army of ants making an expedition around their dwelling place."
"Your army of ants," replied M. Desrioux, "is in all probability an army of natives either fighting or making ready for battle. There is nothing very wonderful in that, for these countries are invariably at war."
The Beluchs were beside themselves with joy as soon as they heard about the village. They embraced each other, danced, jumped about, and, thinking that they had already reached their destination, imprudently consumed their last provisions. Consequently, they made no objection when ordered to resume their march; tired of slaking their thirst, as they had been doing for a week past, at the mountain streams, they were overjoyed at the prospect of indulging in banana wine, beer, or some other fermented liquor. They did not halt until seven o'clock in the evening, when night suddenly closed in.
On the following day, after a march of three hours, the expedition found itself, unexpectedly, at the entrance of a gorge which divided the mountain into two parts, each about three hundred feet high. The space left free between the two ridges of these cliffs appeared very practicable, and the party took this natural road, hollowed out in the rock, without hesitation. As far as they could judge, seeing that they were crossing this last mountain in its breadth, that is to say from east to west, they were bound to emerge on to the plain recognized by them on the previous evening. They might also find themselves on the same level as this plain, for the pass they were in had a very steep incline, was of considerable extent, and at its entrance was not more than 1,500 feet high.
Everything, moreover, led to the supposition that the mouth of the gorge would soon be reached. The passage, sixty feet wide at its commencement, was now not more than fifteen feet at most, the mountain tops overhanging it being so close to each other that they almost touched; there was only one little bit of blue sky to be seen, and the road was more like a subterranean passage than an open path.
Suddenly, the guides who marched at the head of the party came to an abrupt halt, and shouted for their comrades. A general rush was made to them, and their consternation was readily understood.