Right away, apparently at the head of a long narrow valley, and high up toward the heavens, there was a huge peak that might have been the mass of glittering rock from which broke away the diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, opals, and amethysts, which went to form the valleys of precious stones of which John Manning had spoken. For it was all dark below, but up there one of the gigantic Andean peaks was bathed in the full blaze of the rising sun.
The boy lay gazing up, enraptured, thinking of the delight of climbing up into such a world of glory, and then rolling himself out of his blanket, he leaped up, with the stiffness and uneasiness of the past night quite gone, for the colonel’s voice reached him:
“Now, my lad, jump up; breakfast.”
At the same moment he heard the crackling sound of burning wood, and in a nook of the great wall of rock, where otherwise it would have been quite dark, the glow of a bright fire shone upon the intent, hard face of John Manning, who was baking a bread cake upon a disc of iron, while the two plump, effeminate-looking Indians watched him complacently.
Just below, the mules were cropping the green herbage, and from below them came the rush, roar, and splash of falling water.
“That’s right,” cried the colonel, holding out his hand. “Slept well? Find your bedroom draughty?”
“I don’t know, father,” said Perry. “I was looking at the stars one minute, and the next I was staring at that glorious peak.”
“Glorious indeed, my boy. Hah! There’s nothing like a tramp in the mountains, and a night’s rest in the beautiful, crisp, fresh air. Come along down to the dressing-room.”
“Where?” said Perry, staring.
“Down yonder for a wash,” said the colonel merrily; and, leading the way, they descended the precipitous slope to where the stream ran thundering by, reaching first a place where it was not above a couple of yards across.