only chance was to cross to the west side of the mountain, where the ascent seemed somewhat easier.  A couple of mountain maidens whom we fortunately met, carrying home grass for their goats, told us the mountain could be ascended on that side, by one who could climb well—­laying a strong emphasis on the word.  The very doubt implied in this expression was enough to decide us; so we began the work.  And work it was, too!  The side was very steep, the trees all leaned downwards, and we slipped at every step on the dry leaves and grass.  After making a short distance this way with the greatest labor, we came to the track of an avalanche, which had swept away the trees and earth.  Here the rock had been worn rough by torrents, but by using both hands and feet, we clomb directly up the side of the mountain, sometimes dragging ourselves up by the branches of trees where the rocks were smooth.  After half an hour of such work we came above the forests, on the bare side of the mountain.  The summit was far above us and so steep that our limbs involuntarily shrunk from the task of climbing.  The side ran up at an angle of nearly sixty degrees, and the least slip threw us flat on our faces.  We had to use both hand and foot, and were obliged to rest every few minutes to recover breath.  Crimson-flowered moss and bright blue gentians covered the rocks, and I filled my books with blossoms for friends at home.

Up and up, for what seemed an age, we clambered.  So steep was it, that the least rocky projection hid my friend from sight, as he was coming up below me.  I let stones roll sometimes, which went down, down, almost like a cannonball, till I could see them no more.  At length we reached the region of dwarf pines, which was even more difficult to pass through.  Although the mountain was not so steep, this forest, centuries old, reached no higher than our breasts, and the trees leaned downwards, so that we were obliged to take hold of the tops of those above us, and drag ourselves up through the others.  Here and there lay large patches of snow; we sat down in the glowing June sun, and bathed our hands and faces in it.  Finally the sky became bluer and broader, the clouds seemed nearer, and a few more steps through the bushes brought us to the summit of the mountain, on the edge of a precipice a thousand feet deep, whose bottom stood in a vast field of snow!

We lay down on the heather, exhausted by five hours’ incessant toil, and drank in like a refreshing draught, the sublimity of the scene, The green lakes of the Salzburg Alps lay far below us, and the whole southern horizon was filled with the mighty range of the Styrian and Noric Alps, their summits of never-melting snow mingling and blending with the clouds.  On the other side the mountains of Salzburg lifted their ridgy backs from the plains of Bavaria and the Chiem lake lay spread out in the blue distance.  A line of mist far to the north betrayed the path of the Danube, and beyond it we could barely trace the outline of the Bohemian mountains.  With a glass the spires of Munich, one hundred and twenty miles distant, can be seen.  It was a view whose grandeur I can never forget.  In that dome of the cloud we seemed to breathe a purer air than that of earth.