"We shall come home the other way," said Marco. "I wonder if there are any saddles. Twelve miles would be too far to ride bareback."
"Yes," said Forester, "there are saddles. I asked James about that."
The path which Forester and Marco were pursuing soon began to ascend. It ascended at first gradually, and afterward more and more precipitously, and at length began to wind about among rocks and precipices in such a manner, that Marco said he did not wonder at all that James said it would be a rough road for horses.
"I think it is a very rough road for boys," said Forester.
"Boys?" repeated Marco. "Do you call yourself boys."
"For men then," said Forester.
"But I am not a man," said Marco.
"Then I don't see how I can express my idea," said Forester.
Marco's attention was here diverted from the rhetorical difficulty in which Forester had become involved, by a very deep chasm upon one side of the path. He went to the brink of it and could hear the roaring of a torrent far below.
"I mean to throw a stone down," said Marco. He accordingly, after looking around for a moment, found a stone about as large as his head. This stone he contrived to bring to the edge of the precipice and then to throw it over. It went thundering down among the rocks and trees below, while Marco stood upon the brink and listened to the sound of the echoes and reverberations. He then got another stone larger than the first, and threw that down; after which he and Forester resumed their journey.