Amid blocks and debris we descended to the ice: the portion of it which bounded the lake had been sapped, and a space of a foot existed between ice and water: numerous chasms were formed here, the mass being thus broken, preparatory to being sent adrift upon the lake. We crossed the glacier to its centre, and looking down it the grand peaks of the Mischabel, the noble cone of the Weisshorn, and the dark and stern obelisk of the Matterhorn, formed a splendid picture. Looking upwards, a series of most singularly contorted dirt-bands revealed themselves upon the surface of the ice. I sought to trace them to their origin, but was frustrated by the snow which overspread the upper portion of the glacier. Along this we marched for three hours, and came at length to the junction of the four tributary valleys which pour their frozen streams into the great trunk valley. The glory of the day, and that joy of heart which perfect health confers, may have contributed to produce the impression, but I thought I had never seen anything to rival in magnificence the region in the heart of which we now found ourselves. We climbed the mountain on the right-hand side of the glacier, where, seated amid the riven and weather-worn crags, we fed our souls for hours on the transcendent beauty of the scene. [Sidenote: A CHAMOIS DECEIVED. 1858.] We afterwards redescended to the glacier, which at this place was intersected by large transverse crevasses, many of which were apparently filled with snow, while over others a thin and treacherous roof was thrown. In some cases the roof had broken away, and revealed rows of icicles of great length and transparency pendent from the edges. We at length turned our faces homewards, and looking down the glacier I saw at a great distance something moving on the ice. I first thought it was a man, though it seemed strange that a man should be there alone. On drawing my guide's attention to it he at once pronounced it to be a chamois, and I with my telescope immediately verified his statement. The creature bounded up the glacier at intervals, and sometimes the vigour of its spring showed that it had projected itself over a crevasse. It approached us sometimes at full gallop: then would stop, look toward us, pipe loudly, and commence its race once more. It evidently made the reciprocal mistake to my own, imagining us to be of its own kith and kin. We sat down upon the ice the better to conceal our forms, and to its whistle our guide whistled in reply. A joyous rush was the creature's first response to the signal; but it afterwards began to doubt, and its pauses became more frequent. Its form at times was extremely graceful, the head erect in the air, its apparent uprightness being augmented by the curvature which threw its horns back. I watched the animal through my glass until I could see the glistening of its eyes; but soon afterwards it made a final pause, assured itself of its