A DAY'S SPORT ON THE KRAMMETS BERG. 183 



dure anywhere, all was sharp, bleak, grey stone. It 

 was an uncomfortable feeling to look up at the blue 

 sky, and to feel yourself in an abyss of rock, with no 

 visible outlet by which to regain the living world ; 

 for here was no vestige even of life. And what a 

 stillness ! 



To get up the rocks where the chamois lay was 

 indeed not so easy as I thought. Though none of 

 them were high, some were almost perpendicular, and 

 every little projection sharp as a needle ; but, what 

 was worse than all, each piece of stone that might 

 have served to hold by, or as a support to rest the 

 foot on, crumbled away beneath a moderate pressure ; 

 so that if you placed your toe or the side of your 

 foot on such a little projection hardly broader per- 

 haps than the face of your watch, but still sufficient, 

 if firm, to help you upwards just when you thought 

 it might be trusted, and your whole weight leaned 

 upon the ledge, it would suddenly break like a dry 

 stick ; and if you happened to be some way up, 

 you came slipping down again, tearing your knees, 

 while your hands clutched at the sharp points to save 

 yourself from rolling to the bottom. To the bottom 

 however you were sure to go, and the less the dis- 

 tance it was off the better. Presently we got up 

 again, Xavier in advance, and soon after he was above 

 me on a narrow ledge, and sprang thence to another 

 small crag opposite. 



The space to be cleared was nothing; but it required 

 great nicety in landing properly on the crag, and in 



