rees produced a solemn and grave chant, a
peculiarity which has doubtless given to this species of tree the name
of _Pinus religiosus_. As the rays of the sun died away and the dark
shadows covered the sky, the silence became still more profound.
Suddenly the last rays of the luminary vanished; the gathering darkness
imbued us with an emotion which those only can understand who, like us,
had found themselves face to face with some of the grandest emanations
from the Creator's hands.

Lucien, too, was subject to the influence of the twofold majesty of
darkness and solitude; he was speechless, and looked by turns both at
the earth and the sky. The stars appeared glittering in the blue heaven,
and were reflected on the motionless surface of the neighboring water.
Suddenly a luminous ray seemed to dance over the lake, and then to
divide into a shower of sparks. It was the reflection of our fire, to
which l'Encuerado had just set a light.

The piercing cold was excessively trying: our _sarapes_ did not seem
sufficient to protect us from its influence. Fortunately we had obtained
fuel enough to keep up the bivouac fire all night. Our meal, although
without meat, was a cheerful one. Each in turn retired to his pine-leaf
couch; and soon I alone remained up, not feeling an inclination for
slumber.

What a contrast it was! The night before, at this time, we were deafened
by the uproarious wind, and the forests echoed with its fearful effects;
while we, perfectly helpless, sheltered behind a trembling stone, could
scarcely breathe the burning air. Twenty-four hours had hardly elapsed,
and a few miles had brought us on to a granite soil where we felt even
unpleasantly cold; it was no longer the uproar, but the silence, which
awoke in my mind the reveries of loneliness.

We rose before dawn, perfectly benumbed and hardly able to move our
lips. L'Encuerado stirred up the fire so as to get the coffee ready. The
first ray of light showed the ground covered with a white shroud of
bright hoar-frost. Lucien had never seen this phenomenon before, and was
never tired of admiring it. Sumichrast explained to him that the drops
of dew, which every morning may be seen glittering on the grass in hot
countries, freeze in situations of great altitude, and produce those
beautiful transparent globules which, owing to the refraction of light,
assume so beauteous an appearance.

The rays of the sun warmed us but little, so I hastened our preparat