wound their way out from the small enclosure by which the hut was
surrounded;--out from the enclosure on to a rough scrap of undrained
pasture ground from which the trees had been cleared. In a few
minutes they were once more struggling through the mud.

The name of the spot which our travellers had just left is
Carablanco. There they found a woman living all alone. Her husband
was away, she told them, at San Jose, but would be back to her when
the dry weather came, to look up the young cattle which were
straying in the forest. What a life for a woman! Nevertheless, in
talking with Mrs. Arkwright she made no complaint of her own lot,
but had done what little she could to comfort the poor lady who was
so little able to bear the fatigues of her journey.

"Is the road very bad?" Mrs. Arkwright asked her in a whisper.

"Ah, yes; it is a bad road."

"And when shall we be at the river?"

"It took me four days," said the woman.

"Then I shall never see my mother again," and as she spoke Mrs.
Arkwright pressed her baby to her bosom. Immediately after that her
husband came in, and they started.

Their path now led away across the slope of a mountain which seemed
to fall from the very top of that central ridge in an unbroken
descent down to the valley at its foot. Hitherto, since they had
entered the forest, they had had nothing before their eyes but the