stack. If the devil hain't done his biggest celebratin'
'n' carpenterin' 'n' farmin' round here, d'no 's I know where he has done
it. Beats _me_, Capm; cleans me out. Can't do no jestice to it. Can't talk
about it. Seems to me 's though I was a fool."

Yes, even Phineas Glover's small and sinewy soul (a psyche of the size,
muscular force, and agility of a flea) had been seized, oppressed, and in
a manner smashed by the hideous sublimity of this wilderness of sandstone,
basalt, and granite.

Two hours passed, during which, from the nature of the ground, the
travellers could neither see nor be seen by their pursuers. Then came a
breathless ascent up another of the monstrous sandstone terraces.
Thurstane ordered every man to dismount, so as to spare the beasts as much
as possible. He walked by the side of Clara, patting, coaxing, and
cheering her suffering horse, and occasionally giving a heave of his solid
shoulder against the trembling haunches.

"Let me walk," the girl presently said. "I can't bear to see the poor
beast so worried."

"It would be better, if you can do it," he replied, remembering that she
might soon have to call upon the animal for speed.

She dismounted, clasped her hands over his arm, and clambered thus. From
time to time, when some rocky step was to be surmounted, he lifted her
bodily up it.

"How can you be so strong?" she said, looking at him wonderingly and
gratefully.

"Miss Van Diemen, you give me strength," he could not help responding.

At last they were at the summit of the rugged slope. The animals were
trembling and covered with sweat; some of them uttered piteous whinnyings,
or rather bleatings, like distressed sheep; five or six lay down with
hollow moans and rumblings. It was absolutely necessary to take a short
rest.

Looking ahead, Thurstane saw that they had reached the top of the
tableland which lies south of the San Juan, and that nothing was before
them for the rest of the day but a rolling plateau seamed with meandering
fissures of undiscoverable depth. Traversable as the country was, however,
there was one reason for extreme anxiety. If they should lose the trail,
if they should get on the wrong side of one of those profound and endless
chasms, they might reach the river at a point where descent to it would be
impossible, and might die of thirst within sight of water. For undoubtedly
the San Juan flowed at the bottom of one of those amazing canons which
gully this Mer