A SAVAGE SCEXE. 287 



were exceedingly steep, and it was an immense relief when 

 onr porters happily hit on a faint hunter's trail, which, 

 though frequently lost, was always recovered after a slight 

 delay. The channel of the river beneath us was naiTOwed 

 into a gorge, and the opposite mountain- side was even 

 steeper than that we were laboriously traversing. As we 

 drew near to the angle of the mountain, which projects 

 over the confluence of the Scena and the western Zenes- 

 Squali, pines mingled with the deciduous trees, and lower 

 down their gigantic cones of sombre foliage clothed, from 

 top to bottom, the sides of the tremendous ravine into 

 which the valley contracted. 



The scene, which revealed itself, bit by bit, through 

 the breaks in a dense veil of mist, was one of the most 

 savage of its kind imaginable, and totally unlike anything 

 I had ever seen, except in some of the mountain landscapes 

 of Gustave Dore. Meantime the rain fell in merciless 

 torrents, which even the thickest pine-branches could only 

 partially keep out. It seemed as though we should never 

 reach the entrance of the Scena valley, but at last the 

 corner of the mountain was turned, and we began to de- 

 scend ; the forest grew thicker, and a few hundred feet 

 above the stream, we found a group of pines so dense that 

 a patch of ground beneath them was still fairly dry, and 

 promised to afford our men a better resting-place than 

 they could have hoped for. The first thing to do was to 

 set up the tent as quickly as possible, no pleasant or easy 

 task, when the ropes and strings were all in a soppy 

 condition. Once inside, we tried to put on dry clothes, 

 the waterproof saddlebags having gallantly withstood the 

 rain, and pi-eserved their contents from wet. Our tent 

 was always small, and the sloping sides, which in fine 

 weather could be stretched taut, were apt when wet to flop 

 heavily against our faces whenever we attempted to sit uj). 



