"Are we then on the borders of the desert of that name?" asked Dick
Sand.
"Precisely, my young friend, and this desert extends far beyond the mountains which shut off the horizon."
"The desert of Atacama?" repeated Dick Sand.
"Yes," replied Harris. "This desert is like a country by itself, in this vast South America, from which it differs in many respects. It is, at the same time, the most curious and the least known portion of this continent."
"And you travel alone?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Oh, it is not the first time that I have taken this journey!" replied the American. "There is, two hundred miles from here, an important farm, the Farm of San Felice, which belongs to one of my brothers, and it is to his house that I am going for my trade. If you wish to follow me you will be well received, and the means of transport to gain the town of Atacama will not fail you. My brother will be happy to furnish, them."
These offers, made freely, could only prepossess in favor of the
American, who immediately continued, addressing Mrs. Weldon:
"These blacks are your slaves?"
And he pointed to Tom and his companions.
"We have no longer any slaves in the United States," replied Mrs. Weldon, quickly. "The North abolished slavery long ago, and the South has been obliged to follow the example of the North!"