128 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



lines of the mountains opposite were already indistinct. 

 A cold gust came up from the valley, and in a mo- 

 ment after huge ghost-like forms swept by, followed 

 by others in long succession ; grey trailing clouds 

 passed solemnly on over the meadow, and in a few 

 seconds the whole space between the mountains was 

 filled with thick mist. It is astonishing how quickly 

 the landscape is sometimes enveloped and shut out 

 from view. The meadow was hidden from sight, as 

 well as all else except the nearer hut, which loomed 

 through the vapoury gloom. 



We were both glad to be so comfortably housed, and 

 bolting the door set about making a fire. It was pleasant 

 and cheering within, as soon as the blaze lighted up the 

 walls and roof, and the dry wood crackled and flung 

 round its sparks upon the hearth. Stowed away in a 

 secret place known only to himself, Solacher had a 

 frying-pan of his own in this hut ; for it seemed he 

 often made it his temporary home, as well when the 

 dairy-maids were gone into the vale as during their 

 summer sojourn here. The frying-pan was fetched, 

 and he at once set about the supper, each of us how- 

 ever having first taken a long draught at the freshly- 

 filled water-pail. 



The rucksacks were opened, and their contents 

 brought forth. In Solacher's was the usual small bag 

 of flour and the wooden box with butter, which the 

 chamois-hunter always carries with him ; and out of 

 the midst of the flour two eggs came to light, which 

 he had put in that safe place for me, in order that the 



