Continuing on the almost level road, we pass the Lej Minvir, then the Lej Nair, 'black lake,' the waters of which, filtered through peat, are of an inky {31} purple. Separated from it by a few yards of pasture, and in such sharp contrast of colour as to seem almost unreal, is the Lej Alv, 'white lake,' filled by the turbid stream from the Cambrena glacier with greenish-white water. The contrast is said to be reproduced in the trout abounding in them, which are of a dark and light colour respectively. This narrow neck of bog and pasture is the watershed between the Inn descending to the Black Sea, and the Adda to the Mediterranean; occasionally, it is said, a wind from the south or east, funnelled and furious in the pass, drives the white waters over into the black, and temporarily unites the lakes. Presumably at such times the white trout lie low, or the distinction between the two breeds would have been lost. The Bernina Hospice is finely posted above Lej Alv. Hence the road on the left, and the rail and an enchanting footpath on the right, descend by the lovely Lago di Poschiavo to Italy. A return to Pontresina may be made by the popular 'Diavolezza Tour.' Plate VI. gives a fine suggestion of the scenery at its highest point, the little inn attractively entitled 'Zum Ewigen Schnee' in the foreground, Piz Palü beyond. Hence we descend to the Pers glacier, thread our way among its shafts and pinnacles, one of the most striking and beautiful mazes of ice formation that I know; rest awhile on the rocks of Isola Persa; {32} and finally pass over the broad, billowy Morteratsch glacier and follow its right lateral moraine to the hotel-restaurant set in front of one of the stateliest pageants of the Alps. I wish the artist had been moved to give a sketch of it, but he was probably there in conditions that made sketching impossible. Most persons know the place as a maddening babel. All day long trains, vans, and lesser vehicles discharge their close-packed occupants, and a stream of pedestrians pass through on their way up or down the valley. But one summer evening I arrived there from over the glacier after walking from early dawn; the last sightseer had gone; I had my supper at a little table on the greensward between the larch wood and the rushing stream, in front of me the majestic Piz Palvi, set on high in the lingering light like the great white throne of the Apocalypse; it seemed a divinely peaceful spot, such as may have been that garden of the early world where God walked in the cool of the day. III SUOT FONTANA MERLA