ich I could
distinguish the carts, the white tent, and the figures of our friends.
Guided by the blaze, we soon reached the little encampment. My father
and Uncle Denis were as glad to get us back as we were to return, though
we had no satisfactory intelligence to communicate. Dio had found some
bushes, from which the fuel for our fire had been procured and what was
of of equal consequence, a small pool of water, to which our thirsty
cattle had been led to drink.

"Had we pushed on we should have missed it, so that we must not grumble
at being detained in the pass," observed my father.

"Provided no storm comes on until we are clear of it," remarked Uncle
Denis; "however, we will not anticipate evils."

So soundly did I sleep, after the fatigues of the evening, that Uncle
Denis had to give me a pretty rough shake, and then looking up, I saw
that it was daylight overhead, though it was still almost dark in the
depths of the pass.

We lost no time, as soon as breakfast was over, in moving on, hoping
that before long we should emerge into the open country. For hours we
trudged on, ascending but slightly, and the horses had no difficulty in
dragging up the carts, when suddenly the bright glare of daylight
appeared before us and we found ourselves looking down on a broad valley
bathed in sunlight, but with another range of mountains beyond. The
sides sloped gradually towards a sparkling stream which flowed at the
bottom, clothed with rich vegetation. Was this valley to be our home,
or were we to cross the second range, into a still more fertile region?

"This is just the sort of spot we have been looking for, and I hope my
father will stop here!" I exclaimed to Mr Tidey, with whom I was
walking.

"Very good possibly, but where are we to find a market for our produce?
Unless there is a pass through the second range, no emigrant trains are
likely to come this way, and I do not think your father or any other
sensible man would wish to exclude himself from the rest of the world,
though undoubtedly we might manage to exist if big-horns, and deer, and
buffalo are to be found in the neighbourhood."

When my father came up, he stopped and surveyed the valley.

"Its beauty consists in its contrast to the dark gorge we have passed
through," he remarked; "see those black rocks cropping up in all
directions through the grass: the soil is of but little depth, and we
could nowhere find an acre of arable land."

Uncle Deni