414 THE HT7NTING GROUNDS 



many foaming torrents and cascades glistened like 

 silver on the rugged sides of the mountain. The only- 

 sounds that broke the intense silence that reigned 

 over the whole face of nature, were the roaring of 

 distant avalanches, the melancholy cry of the eagle, 

 or the shrill whistle of the marmot as, alarmed at 

 our intrusion on his domains, he scrambled into his 

 burrow under the rocks. 



The bracing freshness of the air and the magni- 

 ficence of the scenery had the effect of enduing us 

 all with an exuberant overflow of joyous animation 

 and exhilaration of spirits, as for several minutes we 

 amused ourselves in testing our strength by seeing 

 who could throw farthest over the glacier, or hurl 

 the largest fragments of rock down the steep slope. 

 Whilst so amusing ourselves, a pair of immense 

 lammergeier came soarincj over our heads, I im- 

 mediately unslung my rifle, which I carried across 

 my back, and let drive a couple of shots, but both 

 were without eff'ect, the distance being too great. 

 A lucky thought flashed across my mind, which 1 

 immediately put into execution. I took a red silk 

 pocket-handkerchief, and, fastening a stone in the 

 centre, I threw it into the air several times ; and 

 when I saw that it had attracted their attention, I 

 threw it as far as I could down the slope before me. 

 It hardly fell when both made a swoop towards it, 

 and came well within distance. I threw up my 

 rifle, hit the leading bird hard with the first barrel, 

 and brought him down with the second ; but I had 



