The roots of my hair thrilled.  I listened, but the wind had died; and, fancying that it must have been the wind itself—­no; on a sudden I remembered the noise which Chowbok had made in the wool-shed.  Yes; it was that.

Thank Heaven, whatever it was, it was over now.  I reasoned with myself, and recovered my firmness.  I became convinced that I had only been dreaming more vividly than usual.  Soon I began even to laugh, and think what a fool I was to be frightened at nothing, reminding myself that even if I were to come to a bad end it would be no such dreadful matter after all.  I said my prayers, a duty which I had too often neglected, and in a little time fell into a really refreshing sleep, which lasted till broad daylight, and restored me.  I rose, and searching among the embers of my fire, I found a few live coals and soon had a blaze again.  I got breakfast, and was delighted to have the company of several small birds, which hopped about me and perched on my boots and hands.  I felt comparatively happy, but I can assure the reader that I had had a far worse time of it than I have told him; and I strongly recommend him to remain in Europe if he can; or, at any rate, in some country which has been explored and settled, rather than go into places where others have not been before him.  Exploring is delightful to look forward to and back upon, but it is not comfortable at the time, unless it be of such an easy nature as not to deserve the name.

CHAPTER V:  THE RIVER AND THE RANGE

My next business was to descend upon the river.  I had lost sight of the pass which I had seen from the saddle, but had made such notes of it that I could not fail to find it.  I was bruised and stiff, and my boots had begun to give, for I had been going on rough ground for more than three weeks; but, as the day wore on, and I found myself descending without serious difficulty, I became easier.  In a couple of hours I got among pine forests where there was little undergrowth, and descended quickly till I reached the edge of another precipice, which gave me a great deal of trouble, though I eventually managed to avoid it.  By about three or four o’clock I found myself on the river-bed.

From calculations which I made as to the height of the valley on the other side the saddle over which I had come, I concluded that the saddle itself could not be less than nine thousand feet high; and I should think that the river-bed, on to which I now descended, was three thousand feet above the sea-level.  The water had a terrific current, with a fall of not less than forty to fifty feet per mile.  It was certainly the river next to the northward of that which flowed past my master’s run, and would have to go through an impassable gorge (as is commonly the case with the rivers of that country) before it came upon known parts.  It was reckoned to be nearly two thousand feet above the sea-level where it came out of the gorge on to the plains.