Page:Life in the Old World - Vol. I.djvu/326

342 clouds gamboled or strove together aloft, and one Alpine spire after another shot up above the region of clouds, shining as if of pure gold, till the whole mountain chain lay before us distinctly with its deep glaciers, its acute pyramids, even to the rounded colossus of Mont Blanc. Louise and I stood in a green meadow of the valley, contemplating this scene with uplifted eyes and hearts, which rose still higher—till the sun had set, and the after-glow had succeeded!

It would have been impossible for us to have had a lovelier evening at Chamouni.

But the initiation into the mysteries of the ice regions has other scenes than this, and I will now speak of one of them.

It was the following day. We ascended through pine-forest to Le Montanvert. It is here that one sees before one the so-called Mer de Glace, a broad stream of ice and snow, the offspring of the highest Alps, which pours itself between lofty mountain-ridges, down into the valley of Chamouni, where, from beneath its icy gates, issues the river of Arveron. I say “pours itself,” because the frozen river slides from the heights down into the valley, and these icy masses, are besides, as one knows, in a state of continual advance.

From the height of Montanvert we saw the Mer de Glace, also called Le Mont Blanc des dames, splendidly shining in the morning sun, and a party of gentlemen and ladies crossing to the opposite side. It looked quite calm and agreeable. Why should not we do the same? Oar guides encouraged us to do so, yet with a certain cautiousness of expression.