He bore
on his shoulder a stout keg, that seemed full of liquor, and made
signs for Rip to approach and assist him with the load. Though
rather shy and distrustful of this new acquaintance, Rip complied with
his usual alacrity; and mutually relieving one another, they clambered
up a narrow gully, apparently the dry bed of a mountain torrent. As
they ascended, Rip every now and then heard long rolling peals, like
distant thunder, that seemed to issue out of a deep ravine, or
rather cleft, between lofty rocks, toward which their rugged path
conducted. He paused for an instant, but supposing it to be the
muttering of one of those transient thunder-showers which often take
place in mountain heights, he proceeded. Passing through the ravine,
they came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by
perpendicular precipices, over the brinks of which impending trees
shot their branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky
and the bright evening cloud. During the whole time Rip and his
companion had labored on in silence; for though the former marvelled
greatly what could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this
wild mountain, yet there was something strange and incomprehensible
about the unknown, that inspired awe and checked familiarity.
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