a day's sport on the krammets berg. 169 



assure you. None of the gentlemen who have been out 

 stalking here ever went in. Indeed you had better not, 

 — you cannot tell what it is till you are in it." 



" Have you been there?" I asked. 



" Yes, but it is an ugly place." 



" Well then, come ;" and I cautiously moved toward 

 the spot I had before indicated, as the only place where 

 it was possible to get down into the chasm. I saw that 

 Xavier did not at all like the expedition, and felt uncom- 

 fortable — on my account, — but he said nothing. At last 

 we were in the bed of the clam, and a w r ild spot it was, 

 — much deeper too than I had believed, and wider; and 

 jagged rocks, now that I stood beside them, were grown 

 to twice the size they had seemed before. There was no 

 verdure anywhere, — all was sharp, bleak, grey stone. It 

 was an uncomfortable feeling to look up at the blue sky, 

 and to feel yourself in an abyss of rock, with no visible 

 outlet by which to regain the living world ; for here was 

 no vestige even of life. And what a stillness ! 



To get up the rocks where the chamois lay was indeed 

 not so easy as I thought. Though none of them were 

 high, some were almost perpendicular, and every little 

 projection sharp as a needle ; but, what was worse than 

 all, each piece of stone that might have served to hold 

 by, or as a support to rest the foot on, crumbled away 

 beneath a moderate pressure ; so that if you placed your 

 toe or the side of your foot on such a little projection — 

 hardly broader perhaps than the face of your watch, but 

 still sufficient, if firm, to help you upwards — just when 

 you thought it might be trusted, and your whole weight 

 leaned upon the ledge, it would suddenly break like a 

 dry stick ; and if you happened to be some way up, you 

 came slipping down again, tearing your knees, while 

 your hands clutched at the sharp points to save yourself 



