they gasped for breath, and became exhausted and nearly inanimate,
only retaining their hold of the rocks by a powerful instinct
of self-preservation. Suddenly a tremendous shock pitched them
right off, and sent them rolling to the very foot of the mountain.
The plateau had stopped.

For some minutes no one stirred. At last one of the party
picked himself up, and stood on his feet, stunned by the shock,
but still firm on his legs. This was the Major. He shook
off the blinding snow and looked around him. His companions
lay in a close circle like the shots from a gun that has just
been discharged, piled one on top of another.

The Major counted them. All were there except one--that one
was Robert Grant.


CHAPTER XIV PROVIDENTIALLY RESCUED


THE eastern side of the Cordilleras of the Andes consists of a
succession of lengthened declivities, which slope down almost
insensibly to the plain. The soil is carpeted with rich herbage,
and adorned with magnificent trees, among which, in great numbers,
were apple-trees, planted at the time of the conquest, and golden
with fruit. There were literally, perfect forests of these.
This district was, in fact, just a corner of fertile Normandy.

The sudden transition from a desert to an oasis, from snowy peaks
to verdant plains, from Winter to Summer, can not fail to strike