INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 7 



the plains of snow, the loud cry of joy of the peasant- 

 girl ringing upwards to the very sky, — all this sent a 

 thrill through my whole frame, and my blood seemed to 

 feel the thrill and tingled with exultation. 



What would I not have often given could hearty old 

 Christopher North have been with me to enjoy the sight, 

 — to have watched the driving mists coming upwards 

 from the valley, and have listened for a second amid that 

 silence and solitude? He rather paints than describes; 

 his words are colour, with which he fills a canvas, and so 

 presents you with a picture of the scene. And then, too, 

 that other master of his art, Edwin Landseer, — what a 

 new field was here for his truthful pencil ! Hardly a 

 day ever passed but some good effect, some picturesque 

 group, or some striking incident reminded me of him, 

 and made me wish that he could be there, to catch the 

 happy moment and give it a permanent existence. The 

 peculiar tone of that mountain scenery, the expressive 

 features and bold characteristic bearing of the chamois, 

 the occasionally perilous positions of the hunter, — all 

 this, and much more beside, would, with his poetic 

 mind and wonderfully skilful handling, afford such pic- 

 tures as even his hand has not yet produced. 



I had given up my intention of describing the red 

 deer and the forest as soon as Mr. Scrope's book ap- 

 peared ; but when the new world that mountain life pre- 

 sents opened upon me, the former wish arose again, and 

 I determined that chamois-hunting should now be my 

 theme. It was a subject of which nothing was known in 

 England, and I felt sure that if I were able to impart to 

 what I wrote but a tithe of the charm which the scenes 

 described really possess, it could not fail to interest. 

 Should it not do so, the fault is solely mine. 



