inability to see what it is that we have done, what we are suffering, and
what we truly are. Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us
our appearance only.

We found as soft a piece of ground as we could--though it was all
stony--and having collected grass and so disposed of ourselves that we
had a little hollow for our hip-bones, we strapped our blankets around us
and went to sleep. Waking in the night I saw the stars overhead and the
moonlight bright upon the mountains. The river was ever rushing; I heard
one of our horses neigh to its companion, and was assured that they were
still at hand; I had no care of mind or body, save that I had doubtless
many difficulties to overcome; there came upon me a delicious sense of
peace, a fulness of contentment which I do not believe can be felt by any
but those who have spent days consecutively on horseback, or at any rate
in the open air.

Next morning we found our last night's tea-leaves frozen at the bottom of
the pannikins, though it was not nearly the beginning of autumn; we
breakfasted as we had supped, and were on our way by six o'clock. In
half an hour we had entered the gorge, and turning round a corner we bade
farewell to the last sight of my master's country.

The gorge was narrow and precipitous; the river was now only a few yards
wide, and roared and thundered against rocks of many tons in weight; the
sound was deafening, for there was a great volume of water. We were two
hours in making less than a mile, and that with danger, sometimes in the
river and sometimes on the rock. There was that damp black smell of
rocks covered with slimy vegetation, as near some huge waterfall where
spray is ever rising. The air was clammy and cold. I cannot conceive
how our horses managed to keep their footing, especially the one with the