28 SPARKS FROM A GEOLOGIST'S HAMMER. 



upon us. A stream of water gushes from the vertical 

 rock wall on the left, and plunges down 500 feet, as if 

 an immense tank had been tapped and the plug drawn 

 out. Above rise the Aiguilles des Varens, nearly 9,000 

 fe'et (8,960) high. These, undoubtedly, gather the pre- 

 cipitation which supplies the flow, a small lake (lac de 

 Flaine) upon the heights, probably serving, as De Saus- 

 sure suggested, as a reservoir to maintain the constancy 

 of the supply. 



Glancing ahead, we soon descry, at the distance of a 

 quarter of a mile, another cascade, the cascade of Arpe- 

 naz. This pours from the brink of the precipice, plung- 

 ing sheer into the atmosphere at the height of 860 feet, 

 and separating into vapor before reaching the solid ground. 



Alpine characteristics grow more emphasized. The 

 muddy Arve rushes past us with a noisier utterance, 

 rippling, eddying, plunging about the rocky fragments 

 which have invaded its bed. The bottoms are strewed 

 with the traces of a recent flood, stones, gravel, and 

 mud gathered in winrows and deposited at elevations 

 several feet above the present level of the stream. The 

 whole valley is in a state of devastation. Man has here 

 yielded dominion to the caprices of torrent and flood. 



At St. Martin the highway makes a sharp curve to 

 the left, and the valley gorge opens a vista in a new 

 direction. Suddenly Mont Blanc stands up before us, 

 white, lofty, majestic, and overpowering. It is like an- 

 other apparition from the celestial regions. We at once 

 recognize a difference between our emotions and those 

 experienced at Geneva. There, the scene was grand and 

 exhilarating; but beauty and softness and distance were 

 so blended with it that the soul preserved a comparative 



