THE SWALLOW. 201 



shot from a bow. Unlike man, who is incessantly called back to 

 earth, they seem to gravitate above. Never have I seen the image 

 of a more sovereign liberty. Their tricks, their sports, were infinite. 

 We travellers regarded with pleased eyes these other travellers, 

 which bore their pilgrimage so gaily and so lightly. The horizon, 

 nevertheless, was heavy, and ringed by the Alps, which at that hour 

 seemed close at hand. The black pine-woods were already darkened 

 and overshadowed by the evening ; the glaciers glittered again with 

 a ghastly whiteness. The sorrowful barrier of these grand mountains 

 separated us from France, towards Avhich we were soon about to 

 travel slowly. 



