Part I. A LITTLE TOUR IN THE ALPS. 1 19 



Descending, the grouild, becoming more level, begins to form 

 an undulating basin between two ranges, and here the short 

 grass is perfectly jewelled with dwarf alpine plants and flowers. 

 The silky-leaved and very dwarf Senecio incatzus occurs in 

 thousands, the Cudweeds too are abundant, while a few inches 

 above the dense silvery turf formed by such plants, the large 

 and beautiful purple flowers of Viola calcarata form, not a sheet 

 of colour — for the flowers occur singly, and are separated one 

 from the other by bits of green and silvery turf — but sometimes 

 the eye is brought nearly level with the surface of a bank dotted 

 over in this way, and the effect is something' exquisite. It is not 

 the effect of " massing " flowers, but that of " shot " silk. The 

 flowers of this Violet were generally very large — I measured 

 several an inch and a half across, while the plants from which 

 they sprang were almost inconspicuous, and generally I had 

 to use the flower stem as a guide to the minute rosette of leaves 

 in the grass. A still more beautiful effect, and perhaps more so 

 than I have seen either in flower-garden or wild, was observed 

 when tufts of Gentiana verna occurred pretty freely amongst this 

 Violet, the vivid blue of the Gentian in patches amongst the 

 groundwork of the Violet. In quite a valley of Gentians — a 

 Uttfe lawn at an elevation of about 7000 feet— I noticed some 

 growing in a watery hollow. I had almost passed them by 

 when I chanced to look closely down to admire their deep, 

 vivid, and exquisite blue, and saw that they were grand tufts 

 of Gentiana bavarica that I was admiring. The little Box-like 

 leaves were in compact tufts, and the flowers were larger, of a 

 deeper and more beautiful blue, than G. verna, which is saying 

 a great deal. I have one specimen now with thirteen perfect 

 blooms — a by no means selected specimen — in a single close 

 tuft, not more than an inch and a half across. 



There were spots near at hand, where G. verna formed a turf of 

 its own, and yet it was not so beautiful as G. bavarica, which was 

 growing exactly in positions that would suit the Bog Bean and the 

 Marsh Marigold. Attempts to cultivate G. bavarica in England 

 have hitherto been a failure. It is very rarely seen with us even 

 in botanic gardens, and, when it is seen, is usually yellow and in 

 poor health. A few words, then, about the position in which I 

 found it in such perfection may prove useful. A little mountain 

 streamlet diverges from its channel and spreads over the surface 

 of the ground for twenty or thirty yards across, not destroying 



