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Cordilleras.

      Chapter XII. Eleven Thousand Feet Aloft

      Nothing of importance had occurred hitherto in the passage through Chili. 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, 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 guide kept wandering. At last he was stopped. They were in a narrow valley, one of gorges; a wall rose perpendicularly before them, and barred further passage.

      The guide, 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.

      “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 the last earthquake has made the route impassable.”

      “To mules,” said the Major, “but not to men.”

      “Ah, that’s your concern[57]; I have done all I could. My mules and myself are at your service to try the other passes of the Cordilleras.”

      “And that would delay us?”

      “Three days at least.”

      Glenarvan listened silently. He saw the guide was right. His mules could not go farther. Glenarvan appealed to his companions and said:

      “Will you go on in spite of all the difficulty?”

      “We will follow your Lordship,” replied Tom Austin.

      “And even precede you,” added Paganel. “What is the problem? We have only to cross the top of the mountain chain, and once over, nothing can be easier for descent than the slopes we shall find there. When we get below, we shall find Argentine shepherds, who will guide us through the Pampas. Let’s go forward then, I say, and without a moment’s hesitation.”

      “Forward!” they all exclaimed.

      “You will not go with us, then?” said Glenarvan to the guide.

      “I am the muleteer,” was the reply.

      “As you please[58],” said Glenarvan.

      “We can do without him[59],” said Paganel. “I’m quite sure I’ll lead you to the foot of the mountain as straight as the best guide in the Cordilleras.”

      So Glenarvan bade farewell to the guide and his peons and mules. The arms and instruments, and a small stock of provisions were divided among the seven travelers.

      They were not far now from the highest peak of the Cordilleras, but there was not the slightest trace of any path. The entire region had been overturned by recent shocks of earthquake, and all they could do was to keep on climbing higher and higher. Fortunately the weather was calm and the sky clear.

      The Major went as quick as was necessary, neither more nor less, climbing without the least apparent exertion. Perhaps he hardly knew, indeed, that he was climbing at all, or perhaps he fancied he was descending.

      The whole aspect of the region had now completely changed. Huge blocks of glittering ice stood up on all sides, reflecting the early light. They had come now to the region of shrubs and bushes, which, higher still, gave place to grasses and cacti. At 11,000 feet all trace of vegetation had disappeared.

      About two o’clock they came to an immense barren plain, without a sign of vegetation. The air was dry and the sky unclouded blue. At this elevation rain is unknown.

      At three o’clock Glenarvan stopped and said:

      “We must rest.”

      He knew if he did not himself propose it, no one else would.

      “Rest?” rejoined Paganel; “we have no place of shelter.”

      “It is absolutely necessary, however, if it were only for [60]Robert.”

      “No, no,” said the courageous lad; “I can still walk; don’t stop.”

      “You shall be carried, my boy; but we must get to the other side of the Cordilleras. There we may perhaps find some hut to cover us.”

      “Are you all of the same opinion?” said Glenarvan.

      “Yes,” was the unanimous reply: and Mulrady added, “I’ll carry the boy.”

      They had a frightful height to climb. Drops of blood stood on the gums and lips, and respiration became hurried and difficult. Falls became frequent, and those who fell could not rise again, but dragged themselves along on their knees.

      Suddenly the Major stopped and said, in a calm voice, “A hut!”

      Chapter XIII. A Sudden Descent

      The hut was covered with snow, and scarcely distinguishable from the surrounding rocks; but Wilson and Mulrady succeeded in digging it out and clearing the opening after half an hour’s hard work, to the great joy of the whole party.

      Its form was that of a cube, 12 feet on each side, and it stood on a block of basalt. A stone stair led up to the door, the only opening; and narrow as this door was, the hurricane, and snow, and hail found their way in.

      Ten people could easily find room in it. Besides, there was a sort of fireplace in it, with a chimney of bricks, badly enough put together.

      “This will shelter us, at any rate,” said Glenarvan, “even if it is not very comfortable. Providence has led us to it, and we can only be thankful.”

      “Why, it is a perfect palace, I call it,” said Paganel; “we only want flunkeys and courtiers.”

      “Especially when there is a good fire blazing on the hearth, for we are quite as cold as we are hungry.”

      “Well, Tom, we’ll try and get some combustible or other,” said Paganel.

      “Combustibles on the top of the Cordilleras!” exclaimed Mulrady, in a dubious tone.

      “Since there is a chimney in the hut,” said the Major, “we shall find something to burn in it.”

      “Our friend McNabbs is right,” said Glenarvan. “I’ll go out and become a woodcutter.”

      “Wilson and I will go with you,” said Paganel.

      “Do you want me?” asked Robert, getting up.

      “No, my brave boy, rest yourself. You’ll be a man, when others are only children at your age,” replied Glenarvan.

      Glenarvan and Paganel stopped to gaze about them and scan the horizon on all sides. They were now on the summit of the Cordilleras, and could see over an area of forty miles. The valley of the Colorado was already sunk in shadow, and night was fast drawing her mantle over the eastern slopes of the Andes.

      Thy would have remained there, gazing at the sublime struggle between the fires of earth and heaven, if the more practical Wilson had not reminded them of the business on hand. There was no wood to be found, however the rocks were fortunately covered with lichen. This precious combustible was carried back to the hut. It was a difficult matter to kindle it, though, and still more to keep it alight.

      Paganel couldn’t help saying:

      “I tell you what, some grilled llama wouldn’t be bad, would it? They say that the llama is substitute for the ox and the sheep.”

      “What!” replied the Major. “You’re not content with your supper, most learned Paganel.”

      “Enchanted

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