Before we were ready to start upon our journey, it was half-past four in the afternoon.

True wisdom would have suggested waiting until morning.
Time, however, was precious, and I hoped to make Cheran that night; consequently, though against the advice of many, we started out, with eight leagues to go, over a road with a bad reputation, and at some points difficult to traverse.

For a little distance, we followed the familiar trail down through the pueblos, but at Tanaquillo we turned up into the mountain.

The ascent was steady until we reached the pass, through which an icy wind drove down upon us.

We could hope to make the distance in six hours.