CHAPTER III. 



The Alps in June. 



T TTHEN the University year is over, usually about mid-June, 

 responsibilities cease almost entirely for a few weeks; and 

 it is sometimes possible to leave the lowlands of England 

 and their familiar birds without delay, and to seek new 

 hunting-grounds on the Continent before the freshness of 

 early summer has faded, and before the world of tourists has 

 begun to swarm into every picturesque hole and corner of 

 Europe. An old-standing love for the alpine region usually 

 draws me there, sooner or later, wherever I may chance to 

 turn my steps immediately after leaving England. He who 

 has once seen the mountain pastures in June will find their 

 spell too strong to be resisted. 



At that early time the herdsmen have not yet reached the 

 higher pastures, and cows and goats have not cropped away 

 the flowers which scent the pure cool breeze. The birds are 

 undisturbed and trustful, and still busy with their young. 

 The excellent mountain-inns are comparatively empty, the 

 Marmots whistle near at hand, and the snow lies often so 

 deep upon footpaths where a few weeks later even the feeblest 



