There was no alternative but to make the effort, selecting the pass that the inhabitants pointed out as the most practicable.

Petaille went first, and I followed on my favorite Jerry.

It was such a scramble as is not often taken,--almost perpendicularly, through what seemed the dry bed of a torrent, now filled with loose stones, and scarcely affording one secure foothold from the bottom to the summit! I clang fast to the mane, literally at times clasping Jerry around his neck, and, amid the encouraging shouts and cheers of those below, we at length arrived safely, though nearly breathless, on the pinnacle, and sat looking down, to view the success of the next party.
The horses had been taken from the carriage, the luggage it contained being placed upon the shoulders of some of the young Indians, to be _toted_ up the steep.

Ropes were now attached to its sides, and a regular bevy of our red friends, headed by our two Frenchmen, placed to man them.

Two or three more took their places in the rear, to hold the vehicle and keep it from slipping backwards--then the labor commenced.
Such a pulling! such a shouting! such a clapping of hands by the spectators of both sexes! such a stentorian word of command or encouragement from the bourgeois! Now and then there would be a slight halt, a wavering, as if carriage and men were about to tumble backwards into the plain below; but no--they would recover themselves, and after incredible efforts they too safely gained the table-land above.