A WALK TO FlSCHBACHAU. 45 



vision you could penetrate what is beyond. It is a 

 yearning such as the soul feels to know of that " other 

 side" which will be seen only after death. 



On the finest day too the mists will suddenly rise, 

 wrapping all in their flowing cloud-like folds. When 

 thus overtaken in the mountains by dense fog, if it last 

 you may look upon it as your shroud. 



In crossing the barren heights of the Valtelline, I re- 

 member to have met, on the summit, a little altar raised 

 by friendly hands from the stones which lay strewn 

 around, in a niche of which shone a human skull and a 

 heap of bones. They had belonged to a contrabandista, 

 who, while smuggling his wares across this scene of de- 

 solation, had been overtaken by the mists sweeping 

 upward from the valley, and, unable to proceed, had sat 

 down and been frozen to death. " On such occasions/' 

 said my guide, " nothing is to be done but to lie down 

 and die." Long after having passed the monument I 

 could see, on looking back, the white bones gleaming 

 in the sunlight, for the elements had bleached them to 

 . a snowy whiteness. 



In going to Eischbachau, however, there was no fear 

 of my becoming the hero of a " lamentable occurrence" 

 in the columns of a newspaper, or of having an ex voto 

 erected to my memory. I lost my way however, as 

 might very well have been expected ; but I regained it 

 after a while, and came upon the road that leads from 

 Schlier See. The rain had now ceased, and the sun 

 looked out cheerily and with his very brightest smile, 

 as if determined to make amends for not having shown 

 himself earlier. Schlier See was before me, a little 

 island in the middle of its clear waters, and which, from 

 its glittering brightness, might, for aught I know, have 

 risen out of the lake just before I came. I looked at it 



