nk coffee and ate bread. We put into our sacks ham and
bread, and he white wine and I brandy. Then we set out. The rain had
dropped to a drizzle, and there was no wind. The sky was obscured for
the most part, but here and there was a star. The hills hung awfully
above us in the night as we crossed the spongy valley. A little wooden
bridge took us over the young Rhone, here only a stream, and we
followed a path up into the tributary ravine which leads to the
Nufenen and the Gries. In a mile or two it was a little lighter, and
this was as well, for some weeks before a great avalanche had fallen,
and we had to cross it gingerly. Beneath the wide cap of frozen snow
ran a torrent roaring. I remembered Colorado, and how I had crossed
the Arkansaw on such a bridge as a boy. We went on in the uneasy dawn.
The woods began to show, and there was a cross where a man had slipped
from above that very April and been killed. Then, most ominous and
disturbing, the drizzle changed to a rain, and the guide shook his
head and said it would be snowing higher up. We went on, and it grew
lighter. Before it was really day (or else the weather confused and
darkened the sky), we crossed a good bridge, built long ago, and we
halted at a shed where the cattle lie in the late summer when the snow
is melted. There we rested a moment.

But on leaving its shelter we noticed many disquieting things. The
place was a hollow, the end of the ravine--a bowl, as it were; one way
out of which is the Nufenen, and the other the Gries.

Here it is in a sketch map. The heights are marked lighter and
lighter, from black in the valleys to white in the impassable
mountains. E is where we stood, in a great cup or basin, having just
come up the ravine B. C is the Italian valley of the Tosa, and the
neck between it and E is the Gries. D is the valley of the Ticino,
and the neck between E and it is the Nufenen. A is the Crystal
Mountain. You may take the necks or passes to be about 8000, and the
mountains 10,000 or 11,000 feet above the sea.

We noticed, I say, many disquieting things. First, all, that bowl or
cup below the passes was a carpet of snow, save where patches of black
water showed, and all the passes and mountains, from top to bottom,
were covered with very thick snow; the deep surface of it soft and
fresh fallen. Secondly, the rain had turned into snow. It was falling
thickly all around. Nowhere have I more perceived the immediate
presence of great D