A COLD WEATHER TOUR 215 



formed the prettiest contrast to the bright yellow of 

 the cliffs. 



The cliffs themselves, too, were a source of constant 

 interest. Composed always of the softest sandstone, 

 they were frequently interspersed with rounded stones 

 of a harder formation. These stones were of all sizes, 

 from that of a cricket-ball to quite large boulders. 

 Some few of the cliffs were so thickly interspersed 

 with these stones as to suggest the idea of a gigantic 

 currant cake, from which a perpendicular slice had 

 been cut. 



Occasionally the larger stones were not round, but 

 long and narrow, and they projected from the face of 

 the cliff exactly as might the tusks of some fossil 

 elephant. The resemblance was so exact that on the 

 first occasion when I traversed the pass I did really 

 imagine, when I came in sight of these projecting stones, 

 that they were fossil tusks. It was only on nearer 

 approach that I became aware of my mistake. 



Interesting, however, as the scenery was, after a time 

 it became wearisome — always the same narrow valley, 

 the same steep cliffs, and the same ridges and peaks 

 rising behind them. The valley turned and wound, but 

 each turn only disclosed a repetition of the same 

 scenery. One longed to come on some open space, 

 some stream or waterfall, some field, garden, or human 

 habitation. It was a relief when at length, after a steep 

 ascent, we reached the summit of the pass. Peaks and 

 cliffs there vanished, and we commenced to descend 

 through a long green slope of forest. 



After a mile or two the forest ceased, and I beheld 



