382 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



together and hold their meetings, and descend thence 

 in storm and tempest upon the lower world. Another, 

 perhaps, has a dread story locked up in its name, and 

 as you hear it, your fancy conjures up a tale of terrible 

 retribution, overtaking some great sin. 



The mists also, as seen on the mountains, are diffe- 

 rent from anything of the sort ever witnessed in the 

 plain. They sometimes come clothed in loveliness, 

 but they will rise too dread and dimly, and with a 

 fearful and unsparing power. Here they assume great 

 forms, and are a reality, a presence. They rise up, and 

 pass slowly by you, like sad ghosts, or come rush- 

 ing on along the sides of the mountain, a long array 

 of muffled shapes of superhuman bulk. It is an im- 

 pressive, a very impressive sight ; and not only on ac- 

 count of their vast proportions as they sweep through 

 the air, but because of the change that is wrought by 

 them ; for they separate you at once and entirely from 

 that dear world which you look upon as your home. 

 There you stand, cut off from humanity, and as lone 

 as though you were on the broad sea, a thousand 

 miles from any shore. At such time, I think, that 

 even one who called himself a misanthrope would 

 acknowledge a returning love of his kind, and feel 

 that he belonged to them, and would long for but one 

 glimpse only of his and their dwelling-place. And 

 when such glimpse at last is caught, through a rent 

 in the dense volume of cloud, how fair the earth ap- 

 pears ! it seems fairer and brighter than ever it did 

 before. 



