THROUGH ASIA 
418 
shadows, showing all the blacker by reason of the rocky 
promontories being- bathed in the silver moonlight. A 
silence as of the grave held the mountains awe-struck in 
its spell. I could hear my own heart beat. 
It was not without regret that I left this glorious little 
Alpine lake, which I had come to look upon almost as my 
own possession, and on whose hospitable shores we had 
spent so many peaceful, refreshing, and profitable days. 
But all the same we left it on October 9th. A furious gale 
was blowing from the south. d he waves sang their 
melancholy, but soothing, song, to which I never grew 
tired of listening — sang in honour of our departure. But 
the echoes soon died away in the distance, as we once 
more shaped our course upwards, towards the untrodden 
realms of the mighty glaciers. 
MY CARAVAN ON THE MARCH 
