they take us too far out of our route, either north or south."

"Have you no other to propose?" asked the Major.

"Certainly," replied Paganel. "There is the pass of Antuco, on the slope
of the volcano, in latitude, 37 degrees 30' , or, in other words,
only half a degree out of our way."

"That would do, but are you acquainted with this pass
of Antuco, CATAPEZ?" said Glenarvan.

"Yes, your Lordship, I have been through it, but I did not
mention it, as no one goes that way but the Indian shepherds
with the herds of cattle."

"Oh, very well; if mares and sheep and oxen can go that way,
we can, so let's start at once."

The signal for departure was given immediately, and they struck into the
heart of the valley of Las Lejas, between great masses of chalk crystal.
From this point the pass began to be difficult, and even dangerous.
The angles of the declivities widened and the ledges narrowed,
and frightful precipices met their gaze. The mules went cautiously along,
keeping their heads near the ground, as if scenting the track.
They marched in file. Sometimes at a sudden bend of the road,
the MADRINA would disappear, and the little caravan had to guide
themselves by the distant tinkle of her bell. Often some capricious
winding would bring the column in two parallel lines, and the CATAPEZ
could speak to his PEONS across a crevasse not two fathoms wide,
though two hundred deep, which made between them an inseparable gulf.