The mountain-piles of white cloud moved in sublime procession along the blue field of heaven, overhead.

The wild growth of prickly bushes, spread in great patches over the grass, was in a glory of yellow bloom.

On we went; now up, now down; now bending to the right, and now turning to the left.

I looked about me.
No house; no road; no paths, fences, hedges, walls; no land-marks of any sort.

All round us, turn which way we might, nothing was to be seen but the majestic solitude of the hills.