t road over the St. Gothard in Switzerland is very similar. No
difficulty had been too great for the Old World engineer who laid it
out. At one place we came to a ravine three hundred feet broad and at
least a hundred feet deep. This vast gulf was actually filled in with
huge blocks of dressed stone, having arches pierced through them at the
bottom for a waterway, over which the road went on sublimely. At
another place it was cut in zigzags out of the side of a precipice five
hundred feet deep, and in a third it tunnelled through the base of an
intervening ridge, a space of thirty yards or more.

Here we noticed that the sides of the tunnel were covered with quaint
sculptures, mostly of mailed figures driving in chariots. One, which
was exceedingly beautiful, represented a whole battle scene with a
convoy of captives being marched off in the distance.

"Well," said Sir Henry, after inspecting this ancient work of art, "it
is very well to call this Solomon's Road, but my humble opinion is that
the Egyptians had been here before Solomon's people ever set a foot on
it. If this isn't Egyptian or Phoenician handiwork, I must say that it
is very like it."

By midday we had advanced sufficiently down the mountain to search the
region where wood was to be met with. First we came to scattered bushes
which grew more and more frequent, till at last we found the road
winding through a vast grove of silver trees similar to those which are
to be seen on the slopes of Table Mountain at Cape Town. I had never
before met with them in all my wanderings, except at the Cape, and
their appearance here astonished me greatly.

"Ah!" said Good, surveying these shining-leaved trees with evident
enthusiasm, "here is lots of wood, let us stop and cook some dinner; I
have about digested that raw heart."

Nobody objected to this, so leaving the road we made our way to a
stream which was babbling away not far off, and soon had a goodly fire
of dry boughs blazing. Cutting off some substantial hunks from the
flesh of the _inco_ which we had brought with us, we proceeded to toast
them on the end of sharp sticks, as one sees the Kafirs do, and ate
them with relish. After filling ourselves, we lit our pipes and gave
ourselves up to enjoyment that, compared with the hardships we had
recently undergone, seemed almost heavenly.

The brook, of which the banks were clothed with dense masses of a
gigantic species of maidenhair fern interspersed with feat