ry animal which he bestrode. The ass
could not keep up such a pace while ascending the mountain. Gradually
his speed slackened, and Bob at length began to look about for a
soft place, where he could jump.

But by this time the road entered what looked like a pass among
the mountains. On one side the hill rose, wooded in some places,
in others rocky; while on the other side it went down steep for
about thirty, feet, where a mountain torrent brawled, and dashed
over its rocky bed. It was about here that the ass slackened his
pace sufficiently for Bob to jump from his back; but just here
it was impossible to jump without the risk of breaking some of
his bones, and he was not yet quite desperate enough to run such
a risk as that. As the road went on through the pass, it grew
narrower and steeper, quite impassable for carriages, and Only
fit for travellers on horse or foot. The farther on it went,
the rougher and steeper it became, and it went on with many a
winding. No houses appeared, except at a great distance, and
those which did thus appear seemed separated by deep valleys
from the place where he was.

Bob could have easily dismounted from the donkey now; but he
hesitated. He thought with some dismay upon the distance that lay
between him and the main road. He thought that his friends must
have passed beyond the place where he turned off, and that if he
did go back he could not hope to meet them. Besides, to go so long
a distance on foot was too formidable a task just now. He hoped
that the ass had some aim in directing his course here, and that
he was seeking his home. Perhaps that home was close by. Perhaps
it was some village in the mountains. If so, he might be able to
obtain a mount for Salerno, and still reach that place before
night was over.

He hoped thug to find help--to get a horse or an ass, and also
something to eat, and thus set forth for Salerno. As the road wound
on, and as he traversed it, he looked eagerly at every projecting
cliff before him; and as he rounded each projection he still looked
forward eagerly in search of the place, whether house or village,
where he might obtain the help of which he stood in need. But the
road continued lonely. He saw no houses, no villages, in its
vicinity. He met with no living things, whether men or cattle. It
was the loneliest path he had ever traversed.

At last he rounded a projecting spur of the mountain; and here
he beheld a scene which was more promisin