Hideous as the place was, every face brightened, for the strain of feeling in great peril was for the time removed, and even the mules showed their satisfaction by whinnying to each other, and giving themselves a shake, as they began to sniff about and browse upon the dry vegetation which grew amongst the fallen stones.
“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel, as he got off his mule, and looked round and above at the pure blue sky. “One feels as if one could breathe and move now.”
“Yes,” said Perry, with a shudder; “it was horrible.”
“Nonsense, boy,” cried the colonel. “It was not a place one would select for a nice walk, but I should not have liked to miss such a journey. People at home do not know there are such wildly-grand places in the world—eh, Cyril?”
“No, sir,” replied the latter eagerly, for a pleasant word or two from the colonel was like a gleam of sunshine in his breast; “but it was dangerous. I should not have liked to get off my mule on that shelf.”
“Not on the precipice side, certainly,” said the colonel.
“Why, there wasn’t any room on the other,” cried Perry; “and if one had turned giddy, one would have gone down, down—ugh!”
“Yes, the place did look deep,” said the colonel, “but no one did turn giddy, and the mules went along as steadily as if they had been on a turnpike road.—Well, Manning, what’s the matter?”
“I was thinking about our having to go back along that there path, sir.”
“Well, I daresay we shall,” replied the colonel, “but you don’t mind.”