ACROSS THE ANDES 151 



all day long, we drove at speed over them. 

 The sun set in red and angry splendor amid 

 gathering clouds. When we reached the Rio 

 Negro the light was dying from the sky, and a 

 heavy storm was rolling toward us. The guard 

 ians of the rope ferry feared to try the river, 

 with the storm rising through the black night; 

 but we forced them to put off, and we reached 

 the other shore just before the wind smote us, 

 and the rushing rain drove in our faces. 



