“Oh, was it? I forget. Perhaps it was both,” said Cyril. “My head got in such a muddle over my coming after you, that things are mixed. I suppose it was because Colonel Campion asked so much about the kina.”
“Father takes a great interest in everything; that’s why he travels and has come here,” said Perry. “Look, there goes a condor.”
“Well, let him go,” said Cyril. “He isn’t good to eat, and you’ve got plenty of provisions to last till you get to some village on the other side of the mountains. But, I say, it does seem strange that you people should come here of all places in the world.”
“I don’t see it,” replied Perry. “It’s a very wonderful place to come to, but I wish it wasn’t quite so dangerous. I keep feeling afraid of turning giddy.”
“Yes, it’s a wonderful place to come to, and I had no idea that the valleys were so awful and deep; but I should enjoy it if it wasn’t for thinking of them at home. I hope they believe I’ve come after you. Wish I’d left a line to say where I had gone.”
“It’s too late to wish that now,” said Perry.
“Yes, but one can’t help wishing it all the same. I wish I knew why your father has come up here.”
At that moment there was a warning shout from forward, and another from John Manning in the rear, for the boys had been so wrapped in their thoughts that they had not noticed how rapidly the path was narrowing. They had, however, another hint, and that was from Cyril’s mule, which, from long training on similar paths, knew exactly what to do, and went on ahead, while Perry’s stopped short on the narrowing shelf which followed all the windings and angles of the rocky wall, and had become so strait that Perry shrank from watching the laden mules, whose loads every now and then brushed against the stones, and one completely caught against a rough projection, making the intelligent animal that bore it stop and ease away a little, leaning more and more over the precipice till Perry’s hands turned cold and wet, and he held his breath. Just, though, as he was about to close his eyes, so as not to see the poor brute plunge headlong down to where it would certainly be dashed to pieces, the load escaped from the awkward corner, and the mule trudged on just as before, while Perry heard a deeply-drawn sigh just behind him.
“I thought he’d have gone, Master Perry,” said John Manning. “Mules ain’t got no nerves, that’s for certain, and if ever you hear any one say in the future as a donkey’s a stupid animal, you tell him he don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“That mule’s sensible enough, at all events,” said Perry, without venturing to turn his head, lest he should have to look down into the gulf.