248 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



we should be on the crest of the mountain. On nearing 

 this boundary of my vision — the line which seems to en- 

 circle and form the limits of a world — the same sensa- 

 tions were always quick within me. What was beyond ? 

 On what should I look down ? On cloud, and vast space, 

 and undefined emptiness ; or would wild rocks be there, 

 and dizzy precipices ; or should I be surprised by over- 

 looking a new portion of this earth of ours, that my eyes 

 had not yet rested on? Should I see a wide plain, with 

 distant cities and roads and tortuous rivers, and thus, 

 with a single step, be in presence of a new tract of coun- 

 try, and take it in at once with one long wondering gaze ? 

 As I had never been on these mountains before, there 

 was always this excitement on nearing the summit — a 

 pleasurable uncertainty about what was to come. And 

 as I crept along towards the ridge, about which, until 

 my foot had touched it, I always felt there hung a mys- 

 tery, how busily did imagination ply its work ! The cau- 

 tion, and the watchful eye, and the breathlessness, arose 

 as much from the awe of the moment as from the heed 

 that is natural to the chamois-hunter. And with strain- 

 ing eye and a tremulous longing, and a sense that a 

 spell was upon me which in a second would be broken, 

 did I creep on my knees to the very ridge, and stare over 

 into what was beyond. But it was not until, with still 

 gradually advancing body, I had cast my eyes over the 

 whole expanse before me, — not until with a glance all 

 had been passed over, — that the charm was dissolved, 

 and that, drawing a deep breath, I felt the sweetly-op- 

 pressive mystery was dispelled. 



It is a different thing altogether thus to behold a new 

 country from the mountain-tops, or to see it as he does 

 who advances upon it step by step along the high-road. 

 It does not come upon you gradually, object after object 



