“Eh? Dangerous? I don’t know. I was wondering what they are thinking at home. Yes, I suppose it is dangerous.”
“Then hadn’t we better get down and walk?”
“What for? We couldn’t walk up so well as the mules. They’ve got four legs to our two. They’re a deal more clever and sure-footed than we should be.”
Perry kept his seat, fully expecting to have the mule make a slip, and then for them to go rolling down hundreds of feet into the valley; but in due time the gap-like opening was reached, and through this place, with the walls on either side so steep that they looked an if they had been cut, they passed into a narrow valley, or rather chasm, looking as if the mountains had been split down to their roots by some earthquake; and a chill of horror ran through Perry, as he checked his mule where the rest were panting and recovering their breath.
“Not a very cheerful-looking place, boys,” said the colonel, as he surveyed the great chasm, running apparently for miles through the mountains, zigzagging, returning upon itself, and always dark and profound in its lower part; so deep, in fact, that from where they stood it might have gone right down to the centre of the earth, while upward the sides rose, wall-like, toward three huge peaks, which looked dazzlingly white.
All at once Perry started, and it seemed as if an electric shock had passed through the mules. For there was a tremendous booming roar some distance away, followed by peal after peal, as if of thunder running for miles amongst the mountains, and not dying away till quite a couple of minutes had elapsed.
“Thunder,” whispered Perry.
“No, I think not,” said Cyril below his breath.—“What was that, Diego?” he said in the man’s tongue.
The answer was laconic, and accompanied by a smile.
“He says some of the snow fell over yonder, out of sight.”