autiful table land, bounded on the
sides by parallel but distant mountains; and the open places reveal
fertile plains in far perspective. Light streams through the wide, clear
space in a golden tide of splendor. Again, you are partly surrounded by
an amphitheatre of hills, rising in gradations, and of such impressive
magnitude and extent that one might imagine that here the secret forces
of nature are wont to take bodily shape, to look on the grand tragic
storms which their own fearful agency has raised.

Now, on one side, the mountains subside into soft undulations; on the
other, the ridges are colossal, dark, and broken, and along the edges of
their successive summits is a line of snow, varying with the line of the
cliffs, and glittering like burnished silver in the sun, above the
jagged battlements. The deep blue sky, the shining snow, the huge, dark,
rocky bases, the different shades of color harmoniously blending, the
soft and rugged shapes contrasting vividly--well may impress the soul
with pleasure-relieving awe, with awe-ennobling pleasure.

Dismount awhile for rest. Enter this rude, thatched house by the
wayside, on a level spot. Laden mules pass by in crowds, attended by
Indian drivers, each of whom doffs his hat and blesses you--a mere
ceremony, it may be, but one in picturesque keeping with the scenery.
Invigorated by the breeze, the shade, the rest, prepare to go higher,
higher, higher yet. First, pluck some of these roses that grow profusely
around you, that, if you reach the line of snow that never melts, you
may place upon the cold bosom of perpetual winter these blushing symbols
of perpetual spring.

Again, you reach the edge of a cliff, through the deep, narrow valley
between which and the cliff opposite pours a furious torrent, which,
resounding louder and louder as it is approached, now drowns all other
sounds in its despotic roar. But, fearful as it looks, it must be
crossed. Some of these torrents are spanned by bridges; but most of them
are so impetuous, especially in the rainy season, that bridges even of
stone would be undermined, and those of timber would be swept away like
wisps of straw. You must now trust to the sagacity of your mules or
horses. You descend the precipitous side of the cliff, seeming to
yourself as if about to fall headlong into the torrent; but after a
painful and perilous jaunt, you reach its level. Its roar now confuses
and nearly stuns you. Each side is more or less pre