Any way we must go on." The snow that had fallen was not deep enough to offer the slightest obstruction to their advance.

It was, indeed, only one of those occasional showers common to that part of the country in the late autumn, which season had now crept upon Dick almost before he was aware of it, and he fully expected that it would melt away in a few days.

In this hope he kept steadily advancing, until he found himself in the midst of those rocky fastnesses which divide the waters that flow into the Atlantic from those that flow into the Pacific Ocean.
Still the slight crust of snow lay on the ground, and he had no means of knowing whether he was going in the right direction or not.
Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood now, so that his night bivouac was not so cold or dreary as might have been expected.
Travelling, however, had become difficult, and even dangerous, owing to the rugged nature of the ground over which he proceeded.

The scenery had completely changed in its character.

Dick no longer coursed over the free, open plains, but he passed through beautiful valleys filled with luxuriant trees, and hemmed in by stupendous mountains, whose rugged sides rose upward until the snow-clad peaks pierced the clouds.
There was something awful in these dark solitudes, quite overwhelming to a youth of Dick's temperament.