When they arrived on a ridge, a cold wind welcomed them. This wind had passed by each peak and each valley. They breathed in deeply.
Some little white-throated birds were flicking their tails in the bushes then flew away chirping.
An all-black goat was perched on the top of the rock.
The rocks resembled enormous houses whose inhabitants are unknown. Green oaks and strawberry trees were growing on the cliffs which elsewhere were bare and as steep as if they had been sliced by a sword.
Rock on top of rock, hill on top of hill, that's the mountains.
Everything was immense.
And the path rose in zigzags towards these heights.
Delighted with this sight, the young travellers looked towards the summits. One of them cried out to them : “Hello, high mountains!”
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