The Dolomites occupy the south-eastern corner of the Tyrol. They are partly in Austria and partly in Italy, and may be concisely described as bounded by the cities of Brixen, Trient, Belluno, and Lienz as four corners of a rectangle. The ground lying between these towns is for the most part the country of the Dolomites, or at any rate is dominated by them. The best known and highest mountain, the Marmolata, rises almost in the centre. The valleys in this remarkable region run generally from north-east to south-west; one great valley beginning near Trient extends for nearly eighty miles, and forms the bed of the river Avisio; this valley is one of the usual approaches to the mountains. Another is from Belluno, and then there is the valley of Ampezzo, passing Cortina, which is a very favourite route; these three valleys are like main clefts or divisions, giving comparatively easy access to the knots of mountainous country. The name dolomite, as applied to the particular formation of these curious rocks composed of carbonate of lime and magnesia, was derived from that of the French geologist, Dolomieu, who was born at the town of that name at Isère in France, and was known by it instead of his own, De Gratet. He first “discovered” this stone, and the name, which, perhaps from association, sounds so appropriate, has become closely associated with this region where the rocks of this formation spring up in greater masses than elsewhere. When we come to describe the scenery of the Dolomites it is difficult to do it justice. Chief among the weird attractions of these amazing freaks of nature is the curious red colouring which is seen when the sunset lights the high peaks and the valleys lie in blue-grey shadow. Many and many an artist has been fascinated and enthralled by the difficulty of putting this extraordinary light on his paper or canvas, and more than one has given up the task in despair. The peaks look like nothing on earth so much as red-hot glowing masses of iron fresh from the forge and casting out a rose-red glow. Yet the rocks themselves are not red, far from it, their usual colour is a grey or deep indigo; it is only here and there they are stained with patches of umber and madder, and only in the light of sunrise or sunset that they assume that amazing glowing red like burning iron. Their serrated peaks are of a variety indescribable and have been compared with alligators’ teeth, while the huge isolated pinnacles or needles of rock, split off, have tempted climbers to vain feats. [Illustration: KING LAURIN’S ROSE GARDEN, FROM THE SCHLERN]