ir, stared at us in bewilderment. It was Bellinzona; but
passing through, we came out presently on the margin of an immense
sheet of water, and it was only in Locarno on the edge of Lago
Maggiore, when dawn was paling the eastern sky, that Jack at last drew
rein.

No one was tired; no one wanted to rest. On the contrary, our rapid
flight over the Alps had intoxicated us with the sense of speed; and
we were all excitedly for going on until we should reach the frontier.
As pink dawn blossomed in the sky, like a heavenly orchard, and the
mountain tops were beaten into copper, we glided along the edge of the
lake, past picturesque villages and _campanili_, and cypress trees. At
the Italian frontier there were the usual tedious formalities of
payment and sealing the car with a leaden seal; but when all this was
done by sleepy officials, surly at our early passage, though little
recking of our crimes, we sailed on again, Molly driving now, through
a landscape magically clear in the young morning light.

Suddenly we all started in joyous astonishment, and Molly brought the
car to a stop. Each had seen the same thing, each had been struck with
the same thought. Here, at last, we had found what we had come so far
to seek; what Switzerland denied us, Italy offered. Standing alone in
a field by the roadside was a small, dark grey donkey, tethered to a
stone; and no other living being was in sight. The creature was not
eating; it was only thinking; and it looked at us with an eye that
seemed to speak of loneliness and the desire for human fellowship.
"The very thing for you!" cried Molly; and the long-sought-for
treasure, finding itself observed, flicked one of its heavy ears.

Gotteland and I dismounted and went nearer. As we approached, the
donkey nickered; and as its family is famed for reticence, such proof
of friendliness made me yearn to possess the deserted little beast.
But its legs were very thin, its hoofs exceedingly small, and the
thought of loading so frail a structure with the great packs that held
my camping kit seemed a barbarity. Meanwhile Gotteland, who knows
something of everything, had carefully examined the tiny animal, and
just as I was growing sentimental over its perfections, he broke the
charm by pronouncing it to be incredibly old, and unfit for work. He
also drew my attention to a disagreeable sore upon its shoulder. It
was sad; but indisputably the man was right; in any case there was no
one with whom