On and on, up the thorny steep they pressed. The palms and mangroves gave place to scrub oaks, and they in turn to pine and cedar. As they ascended, there was a change in soil, vegetation and climate.
At the base of the mountain grew only the trees and plants of the tropics. Three hours' upward travel brought them into the regions of the temperate zone, and they plucked wild strawberries such as grew in New England. Pressing on up the steep side, scaling cliffs and rocks, which at times almost defied their skill and strength, the air grew cooler. The vegetation was less rank. The grass grew short and in places there was none at all.
"Are you tired?" John asked.
"Not much."
"Let us sit and rest."
"The sun has almost reached the meridian, and we are not half-way up the mountain."
"Yet you must have a few moments' rest, Blanche."
They rested but a moment and again pressed on. They had now reached a great altitude, and the valley below looked like a fairy-land. They found up here a species of mountain goats which they had not seen before. They were very shy of the intruders and went bounding away from cliff to cliff and rock to rock at a speed which defied pursuit.
John shot one. The report of his musket in this lofty region was so slight as to be heard but a short distance, but the birds, soaring aloft, screamed with fear and went still higher up the mountain sides.
Here they found squirrels more abundant than in the valley. The oaks and hickory trees bore an abundance of nuts for them. Further on the nut-bearing trees gave place to grass, and they found themselves on a sloping plain.