412 THE HUNTING GROUNDS 



toil we clambered a ridge of broken rocks piled on 

 each other in great confusion, which up to this time 

 had entirely hidden the higher part of the mountain, 

 and the overwhelming sublimity of the scene that 

 then broke upon our view for the first time, amply 

 compensated for the fatigue we had undergone. 

 We had reached the edge of a huge glacier, which, 

 like a mighty river suddenly frozen, appeared to 

 flow down a gorge in the side of the mountain, and 

 extended for some miles both above and below the 

 ridge on which we were standing. Dense foliage 

 and huge masses of rock intervening, had prevented 

 our getting a glimpse of it before, notwithstanding 

 we had attained an altitude much above the lower 

 part, which seemed to have cleft its way far into the 

 heart of the forest. 



The panorama from this point was magnificent, 

 for at the end of the glacier — which in some parts 

 was dazzling white, and in others of the colours of 

 the sapphire and the amethyst — where it appeared 

 to blend with masses of eternal snow, rose the stu- 

 pendous summit of the "Father of Mountains," 

 towering in silent majesty like a glittering mass of 

 cold alabaster. Seating ourselves on a smooth slab 

 of rock, we spent some time in gazing on the sur- 

 passingly-beautiful scene s>pread below and around, 

 and I made a futile attempt to sketch it ; but it was 

 labour under difficulties, for the cold became so in- 

 tense that I could scarcely hold my pencil, and had 

 to jump and caper about every moment in order to 



