ead out
below them, rose up above them everywhere in the utmost confusion. It
was the perfection of desolation--the realisation of chaos. At their
feet, far down in the gorge below, lay a lake so dark that it might have
been ink; but it was clear and so very still that every rock in the
cliffs around it was faithfully portrayed. High overhead rose one of
the more elevated peaks of the Andes, which, being clothed in pure snow,
looked airy--almost unreal--against the blue sky. The highest peak of
the Andes (Chimborazo) is more than 21,000 feet above the sea. The one
before them was probably a few hundred feet lower. Of living creatures,
besides themselves, only one species was to be seen--the gigantic
"condor"--the royal eagle of the Andes, which soars higher, it is said,
than any other bird of its kind. Hundreds of condors were seen hovering
above them, watching for their prey,--the worn-out and forsaken mules or
cattle, which, while being driven over the pass, perished from
exhaustion.

"The ugly brutes! Is it a goat they've got howld of there?" said Larry,
pointing to a place where several of these monstrous eagles were
apparently disputing about some prize.

On reaching the place, the object in question was found to be the
skeleton of a mule, from which every morsel of flesh had been carefully
picked.

"Hold my mule, Larry," whispered Will, throwing the reins to his
comrade, and grasping a rifle with which one of his grateful patients
who survived the earthquake had presented him. A condor had seated
himself, in fancied security, on a cliff about two hundred yards off,
but a well-aimed bullet brought him tumbling down. He was only winged,
and when Will came up and saw his tremendous talons and beak, he paused
to consider how he should lay hold of him.

"Och, what claws!" exclaimed Larry.

"Ah!" said Bunco, smiling, "more teribuble for scratch than yoos
grandmoder, eh?"

Before they could decide how to proceed, the arriero came up, threw the
noose of his lasso over the head of the magnificent bird, and secured it
easily. He measured eight feet seven inches from tip to tip of the
expanded wings.

Will Osten was anxious to skin this bird, and carry it away with him as
a trophy, but the guide protested. He said that the pass was now really
within a short distance of them, but that the thunder-storm would soon
come on, and if it caught them in the pass they ran a chance of all
being lost. Will, there