THE MONK. . 77 



on the '* seared and yellow leaves" which lie scattered on her bosom, 

 whilst the birds sing blithely as in the first break of early spring)— 

 I set out for the small town of Martigny, with the intention of 

 resting one night at the Hospice, and proceeding the next day on 

 my journey into Italy. I took with me two stout peasants to act 

 as guides ; we were all mounted on mules, that being the most 

 convenient mode of ascending the pass. The extraordinary sagacity 

 and more than human foresight of these animals, when in the perils 

 of the mountain tracts, render their services of the highest value to 

 the traveller. It was advisable to take every precaution; for 

 though the weather was now clear and open, this could not be relied 

 on beyond the present hour, particularly at such an advanced season 

 of the year. Should a storm overtake the traveller whilst on his 

 way, unless he has some person thoroughly acquainted with the 

 mountain paths to direct him, there is every danger of losing the 

 track and perishing in the storm. 



The road, for some time, passes along the banks of the river 

 Drance, which rushes impetuously down a narrow rocky channel, 

 sometimes dashing over perpendicular ledges many feet in height, 

 or foaming amongst the broken fragments of stone which every- 

 where strew its bed. . We halted for three hours at the village of 

 Liddes, in order to recruit the mules for the remaining part of the 

 ascent, which, from this place, becomes steeper and more broken. 

 We here learned that a considerable quantity of snow had fallen 

 during the previous days, and that there was much difficulty and 

 some danger in proceeding j but as I was determined, if possible, to 

 reach the Hospice that evening, and it was now but mid-day, I pro- 

 cured another guide to accompany us on foot, and assist in case of 

 any accident ; after replenishing our brandy-flasks, we set out with 

 stout hearts and warm cloaks on our perilous journey. The road 

 lies up a deep valley bounded on either side by bold rocks and snow- 

 covered peaks, from which the sunbeams were reflected with almost 

 painful vividness. After leaving the hamlet of St. Pierre, all ves- 

 tiges of habitation cease; the paths wind for a short distance 

 through a forest of pine and larch, which, however, soon ceases, and 

 the alpine rose, a species of Rhododendron, alone blooms in the so- 

 litude ; the stream assumes the character of a brawling torrent ; the 

 path becomes narrow and rugged ; and the whole scene presents as 

 wild and desolate an appearance as it is possible to imagine. After 

 about two leagues we passed a small chalet, where, in the summer, 

 milk and other refreshments may be procured. We now began to 

 find the journey extremely troublesome, and made but slow pro- 



