Like the king of France with twice ten thousand men, we marched up the hill and then, marched down again.

We found descending still more difficult, as we were in constant fear of slipping, losing our hold, and rolling to the bottom.

We were tired, hungry, and disappointed, and the fear of not reaching the valley before nightfall pressed heavily upon us.

Neither confessed to the other the fatigue and apprehension each felt, but, with fresh endeavor and words of encouragement, we cautiously went on.

We accidentally struck a trail that led us winding down comfortably some distance, but we lost it, and went clambering down as well as we could in our usual way.