d. No--its singularity rested upon other circumstances.

One of these circumstances was, that around the valley there appeared a
dark belt of nearly equal breadth, that seemed to hem it in as with a
gigantic fence. A little examination told that this dark belt was a
line of cliffs, that, rising up from the level bottom on all sides,
fronted the valley and the lake. In other words, the valley was
surrounded by a precipice. In the distance it appeared only a few yards
in height, but that might be a deception of the eye.

Above the black line another circular belt encompassed the valley. It
was the sloping sides of bleak barren mountains. Still another belt
higher up was formed by the snowy crests of the same mountains--here in
roof-like ridges, there in rounded domes, or sharp cone-shaped peaks,
that pierced the heavens far above the line of eternal snow.

There seemed to be no way of entrance into this singular basin except
over the line of black cliff. The gap in which our travellers stood,
and the ravine through which they had ascended appeared to be its only
outlet; and this, filled as it was by glacier ice, raised the summit of
the pass above the level of the valley; but a sloping descent over a
vast _debris_ of fallen rocks--the "moraine" of the glacier itself--
afforded a path down to the bottom of the valley.

For several minutes all three remained in the gap, viewing this strange
scene with feelings that partook of the nature of admiration--of
wonder--of awe. The sun was just appearing over the mountains, and his
rays, falling upon the crystallised snow, were refracted to the eyes of
the spectators in all the colours of the rainbow. The snow itself in
one place appeared of a roseate colour, while elsewhere it was streaked
and mottled with golden hues. The lake, too--here rippled by the
sporting fowl, there lying calm and smooth--reflected from its blue disk
the white cones of the mountains, the darker belting of the nearer
cliffs, or the green foliage upon its shores.

For hours Karl Linden could have gazed upon that fairy-like scene.
Caspar, of ruder mould, was entranced by its beauty; and even the hunter
of the plains--the native of palm-groves and cane fields--confessed he
had never beheld so beautiful a landscape. All of them were well
acquainted with the Hindoo superstition concerning the Himalaya
Mountains. The belief that in lonely valleys among the more
inaccessible peaks, the Brahmin gods