the traveler's eye.

The ground, moreover, had recovered its immobility.
The trembling had ceased, though there was little doubt the forces
below the surface were carrying on their devastating work further on,
for shocks of earthquake are always occurring in some part or other
of the Andes. This time the shock had been one of extreme violence.
The outline of the mountains was wholly altered, and the Pampas
guides would have sought vainly for the accustomed landmarks.

A magnificent day had dawned. The sun was just rising from his ocean bed,
and his bright rays streamed already over the Argentine plains,
and ran across to the Atlantic. It was about eight o'clock.

Lord Glenarvan and his companions were gradually restored to animation by
the Major's efforts. They had been completely stunned, but had sustained
no injury whatever. The descent of the Cordilleras was accomplished;
and as Dame Nature had conveyed them at her own expense, they could
only have praised her method of locomotion if one of their number,
and that one the feeblest and youngest, the child of the party,
had not been missing at the roll call.

The brave boy was beloved by everybody. Paganel was particularly
attached to him, and so was the Major, with all his apparent coldness.
As for Glenarvan, he was in absolute despair when he heard
of his disappearance, and pictured to himself the child lying
in some deep abyss, wildly crying for succor.

"We must go and look for him, and look till we find him,"
he exclaimed, almost unable to keep back his tears.