A FRIGHTFUL SCENE. 



Pas. But lie was silent as the grave not a word 

 escaped his lips ; and on, and on, and on did we 

 tread, slowly, cautiously, and hesitatingly, for about 

 ten minutes, when I became impatient to learn the 

 extent of our progress, and inquired whether we 

 had nearly reached the other end. ' Pas encore.' 

 'Are we half way?' 'A peu pres,' were the 

 replies. Gathering up my whole stock of presence 

 of mind, I requested that we might pause a while ; 

 and then, as I deliberately turned my head, the 

 whole of this extraordinary and frightful scenery 

 revealed itself at a glance. Conceive an amphi- 

 theatre of rock, forming throughout a bare, barren, 

 perpendicular precipice, of I knew not how many 

 hundred feet in height, the two extremities dimin- 

 ishing in altitude as they approached the Drance, 

 which formed the cord of this arc ; that on our left 

 constituting the barrier which had impeded our pro- 

 gress, and which we had just ascended. From the 

 point where we had stepped upon the ledge, quitting 

 the forest and underwood, this circular face of pre- 

 cipice commenced, continuing without intermission 

 till it united itself with its corresponding headland 

 on the right the only communication between 

 the two being along a ledge in the face of the pre- 

 cipice, varying in width from about a foot to a few 

 inches ; the surface of the said ledge, moreover, 

 assuming the form of an inclined plane, owing to 



