WINTER MOUNTAINEERING 59 



in the shadow of a mountain, which, together with 

 the darkness of the spruce woods, made the snow 

 almost a gray expanse. As I climbed out of the 

 shadow on to a plateau, just at sunset, how splen- 

 didly, dazzlingly white was the skyline of peaks! 

 On this white and broken line the sunset-coloured 

 clouds strangely rested. A sunset is never an old 

 story, and a coloured sunset above the white west 

 line of winter's silent earth renews the imagination 

 of youth. 



Though I crossed a number of alpine lakes they 

 were not to be seen. They were gone from the 

 landscape. A stratum of marble instead of snow 

 could not better have concealed them. Lakes, 

 flowers, and bears were asleep for the winter. 



In snowless places the brooks had decorated 

 their ways with beautiful ice structures — arches 

 and arcades, spires and frozen splashes, and end- 

 less stretches and forms of silver streamside plat- 

 ings and boulder drapings; ice, crystal clear, 

 frosted and opaque. Many rocks were overspread 

 with ice sheets and icy drapery, and cliffs were 

 decked with fretwork and stupendous icicles. 

 Smaller streams froze to the bottom, overflowed 

 and outbuilt. In places wide areas were covered 

 to enormous depths. Looking upon these one 

 might almost fancy the Ice Age returning. But 

 three months later the ice was gone to the far-off 

 sea, and the flowers that slept beneath were mass- 

 ing their brilliant blossoms in the sun. 



