286 Unexplored Spain 
at their saeters, or summer sheilings on the fjeld. Hard by the 
cabaiia, or cabin, of these honest folks, our tent was pitched— 
altitude, 5800 feet. 
With the first of the daylight, after a drink of milk, we 
started upwards, our host, the Cura, Bertie, and ourselves. 
With us were ten goat-herds who had to flank the drive; the 
others would already be occupying allotted positions, we knew not 
where. Three hours’ climbing—the usual struggle, only worse— 
took us to the first line of “ passes,” far above the last signs of 
vegetation and amidst what little snow remains here in summer. 
This “drive” had been reckoned a certainty, and four animals 
were reported seen in the mist, but no chamois came in to the 
guns, and yet another two-hours’ climb had to be faced ere the 
second set of posts was reached. 
This bit, however, definitely stopped for the moment my 
career as a chamois-hunter, such was the slippery, perpendicular, 
and utterly dangerous nature of the rocks. A fortnight, before 
I had climbed the Plaza de Almanzér in the Sierra de Grédos, but 
these pinnacles of the Picos proved beyond my powers. ‘he 
admission, beyond any words of mine, bespeaks the character of 
these Cantabrian peaks. Here on a dizzy ledge at 8000 feet I 
remained behind, while the rest of the party, filing up a rock- 
stair, were lost to sight within fifteen yards. 
Before me stretched away peak beyond peak in emulating 
altitudes the whole vast cordillera of Cantabria—a glory of 
mountain-forms. 
the things which tower, which shine, 
Whose smile makes glad, whose frown is terrible. 
In majestic array, pinnacles and crannied summits, flecked 
and streaked with glistening ‘snows, enthral and subdue. The 
giants Peiia Vieja, Urriales, Garnizo, lift their heads above the 
rest, piercing the blue ether—fancied spires in some celestial 
shrine. 
This smiling noontide an all-pervading spirit of peace reigns ; 
the sublimity of solitude generates reverence and awe, the voice 
of the Creator seems audible amidst encompassing silence. 
Far away below, as in another world, lie outspread champaigns ; 
sunlit stubbles, newly stripped of autumnal crops, form chequers of 
contrasted colour that set off with golden background the dark 
