46 SHORT STALKS 



now is, for tliero was only an old-fashioned, wooden- 

 walled inn. I made, in spite of the regulations, a prelimi- 

 nary canter in the well-known Val Rosegg. For the past 

 ten years or more this valley has been constituted a sanct- 

 uary for chamois by the wise provisions of a Federal law. 

 At that time they were scarce, hut after a long search we 

 spied three. The day was stormy, and under these cir- 

 cumstances the wind is always uncertain, and our stalk 

 failed in consecjuence. However, I established, by a fluke, 

 a, reputation as a shot, which many misses never com- 

 pletely effaced. Returning along the mule-path, a marmot 

 was observed outside his hole. As I sat down to shoot, 

 he scuttled into it, but presently reappeared, cautiously 

 showino: his head and shoulders — a small mark — but I 

 took pains with the shot and slew him at the door of 

 his house. Presently the same thing happened again 

 among some rocks, but this marmot showed only his head 

 as he watched our movements. Besides, the shot was a 

 long one, but by a fortunate accident this bullet also sped 

 true. Ever after, my hunter attributed my misfortunes to 

 anything but the true cause. 



The valley of Livigno is a wide open pasture, with 

 rounded green hills on either side, very fat and product- 

 ive, and maintaining a considerable population. In its 

 upper portion there is much high ground and some excel- 

 lent corries, Ijut the best o-round is below the villaoe. 

 Here the river enters the wild Spol ravine, the lofty sides 

 of which are composed of dolomite, which produces rock 

 scenery of the most contorted and bizarre character — 

 isolated columns, terraces, mysterious hollows and clefts, 

 flying buttresses, like those on j\Iilan Cathedral — though 



