He mounted the dizzying road,
And the chasms and steeps of the headland
Were slippery and wet as he trode.
Wild swept the wind of the ocean,
Rolling the fog from afar,
When near him a mule-bell came tinkling,
Midway on the Paso del Mar. 40
“Back!” shouted Bernal full fiercely,
And “Back!” shouted Pablo in wrath,
As his mule halted, startled and shrinking,