Glenarvan followed his guide step by step. He saw that his perplexity
was increasing as the way became more difficult, but did not dare
to interrogate him, rightly enough, perhaps, thinking that both mules
and muleteers were very much governed by instinct, and it was best
to trust to them.

For about an hour longer the CATAPEZ kept wandering about almost
at haphazard, though always getting higher up the mountains.
At last he was obliged to stop short. They were in a narrow valley,
one of those gorges called by the Indians "quebrads," and on reaching
the end, a wall of porphyry rose perpendicularly before them,
and barred further passage. The CATAPEZ, after vain attempts
at finding an opening, dismounted, crossed his arms, and waited.
Glenarvan went up to him and asked if he had lost his way.

"No, your Lordship," was the reply.

"But you are not in the pass of Antuco."

"We are."

"You are sure you are not mistaken?"

"I am not mistaken. See! there are the remains of a fire left
by the Indians, and there are the marks of the mares and the sheep."

"They must have gone on then."

"Yes, but no more will go; the last earthquake has made