"It is very good footing," said Philippe. "In one sense the rocks are loose, for the whole side of the mountain where we go up is formed of slag and scoriæ. But then the pieces are wedged together, so as not to move much, and the foot clings to them, so that you don't slip. On the whole, it is good footing. The only difficulty is, it is so steep. It is a thousand feet up rough rocks, as steep as you can go."
"I could not get up, I am sure," said Mrs. Gray.
"Nor I," said Rosie.
"O, you can be carried up," said Mr. George, "in a portantina."
"What kind of a thing is it?" asked Mrs. Gray.
"It is a common arm chair," said Philippe, "with two stout poles lashed to the sides of it. Two men take hold of the ends of the poles before, and two others behind, and they lift the poles,—chair, passenger, and all,—up upon their shoulders. They carry you, in this way, right up the mountain."
"I should be afraid," said Rosie.
"You would feel a little afraid at first," said Philippe, "when the men were lifting you up upon their shoulders—but afterwards, you would not be afraid at all. You ride as easy as if two persons were to take you in a chair and carry you about the room."
"But I should pity the poor men so much," said Rosie, "in having such a heavy load to carry!"