OVER THE DRACKENBERG. 117 



and shout the names of lagging oxen, while the poor 

 beasts groan, and cough, and wheeze with their exertions 

 and the effects of the rarefied atmosphere. From the 

 abyss on our left rises an immense riven rock. Here 

 we are informed that a wagon at no long-distant time 

 back had gone over ; but we pass the dangerous place 

 in safety, and hurrah ! hurrah ! we are descending, 

 having passed the summit. 



A breathing-time is given. Each one looks as if he 

 had accomplished a great feat, and that he is the hero 

 of it. The bottle is produced ; each driver has a heavy 

 drink ; half the treck-tow, with its cattle, is unhitched, 

 and the wagon expeditiously descends into the valley 

 beneath, and we outspan at the south-eastern limit of a 

 large grassy plain. 



Neither Morris nor I are troubled with cattle this 

 span, for the driver has to go back to help the others ; 

 so we light a fire, cook our coffee, and turn in to sleep 

 the sleep of those who know they have earned it. 



