would start next day to visit the snow-capped summits
that had long overshadowed my tents with the sullen
grandeur of their grey crags and snow-bound streams.
The distance did not appear very great, but I
had grown wary about deciding offhand the length
of routes, and fortunately started soon after my
early cup of tea. There was a severe touch in
the air then, a smack of winter that braced the
muscles, tinctured the blood with the strength of
the mountain air, and put trilling notes into- a voice
not usually prone to sing! The climb was steep
from the set-off, there was scarcely a track through the
trees, and the spreading roots seeking firm foothold made
in places a network, freed from the soil, skilful to catch
the unwary foot. At times there was an interlude of
grass among the closely-growing trees, in colour vivid
almost to dazzling after the sombre shades in the forest,
the flowers themselves taking a more brilliant hue as the
higher levels were reached. Tiny androsace jewelled
the loose soil between the stones, while anemones,
alkanets, and myosotis of many varieties, starred
the grasses with the brilliancy of cut gems. Under
the trees were other treasures of ever-varying hues,
small mauve primula giving place to the larger
purple varieties, with bold white eyes and an independent
sturdiness of stem—flowers beloved of the hill
dwellers, who gaily deck with them their sad-coloured
homespun caps—and higher still, the “ crimson snow,”
the exquisite 'primula rosea that scarcely waits the
melting of the frost to peer forth and show its ruddy
trusses of delicate bloom. A small merg is the first
opening reached, and their flocks of ponies were grazing.
The sound of a sawmill at work gave a pleasant suggestion
of labour, always agreeable to personal idleness,