from the dense clothing of forest which invested them. A number of charbonniers were passing up and down, and among them even young girls of twelve or fifteen, carrying with wonderful ease and steadiness a couple of great sacks of charcoal on their backs, down the rough rocky path where the mule was constantly stumbling. While Delapierre was making inquiries for trout at Liliane, we investigated some little holes in the houses, covered with wire netting, which served for shop windows. Among a heterogeneous collection of pottery, thimbles, crucifixes, cotton, pipes, rosaries, and buttons, I picked up a quantity of beautifully regular and lustrous cubes of pyrites.

Liliane was once famed for its gold-mines, which were very rich, but they have long ago been worked out; the population has all but vanished, and a great part of the houses are deserted and in ruins. Local tradition says that in the days of its prosperity, when the pope's receiver came to Liliane for his accustomed share of its rich produce, the lord of the ancient castle impiously caused him to be thrown into the smelting furnace out of the way. The pope's curse avenged the sacrilegious act, and from that day the yield of the mines dwindled away to nothing, and the once flourishing commune was ruined. Certain it is that all recent attempts to reopen the mines have been thoroughly unsuccessful.

The Val d'Aosta soon opened out glorious as ever, and flooded with the afternoon sun. The mouth of the Val de Lys, as we emerged from it, was hardly less striking; the château of St. Martin on a commanding height in the centre, the blue waters of the Lys at an immense depth below us; and the spires and clustering villages of Perloz and Antey, perched at an extraordinary height up the opposite mountain, nestled in a dense mass of foliage.

Coming down on St. Martin after a steep descent, we left Delapierre to get Mora's shoes put right after the clumsy

work of the smith at Fontainemore, and only stopped to examine the singularly elegant but solid Roman bridge. The arch underneath has five ribs of hewn ashlar with four interspaces of rough stone, and the face of it is also alternately banded, which is very effective. The heat of the Val d'Aosta, as we had before felt on similar occasions, was stifling after the fresh pastures of Gressoney, and the cool delicious atmosphere of Monte Rosa; while, on the other hand, the extreme richness and teeming produce of the sunny valley were the more striking. The people were carrying home tempting baskets, as when we had last passed, piled with peaches, figs, and pumpkins, and also were beating the trees and picking up loads of walnuts, of which they pressed us to take whatever we liked, refusing any payment.

At Donnas, while Delapierre was looking after trout, we examined the Roman gate cut out of a slice of rock left on purpose, and pierced with an archway, round the head of which lines are cut, in imitation of the joints of "voussoirs.” As we read it, the number on the Roman milestone is xxxvi. The height of the impending precipice out of which the road is cut is immense, and the tumultuous waters of the Doire rush furiously past its base.

At Fort Bard after some inquiries we got a lodging at the "Albergo di Sole," a dirty little inn, with a still more filthy sleeping-room, having apparently never been cleaned for years, but it did very well for one night; and with the help of a slipshod Cinderella, who spoke only an extraordinary jargon of French and Italian, we made such improvement before long, that the padrone, who was from home, must have been astonished at the change effected when he returned. Delapierre set to work with the skill and activity of a courier, foraged for us, cooked the supper, made a savoury omelette, and fried the trout he had luckily secured, as there was nothing else to be had in the padrone's absence but cheese, bread, and oil. He crowned his efforts with a basket

of purple figs, after which it was fixed to start at five, and we retired early. The back walls of the house were the solid rock, and the singular way up stairs was by wide steps cut in it, and jointed into the masonry of the house. The heat was suffocating, but we slept soundly on a shakedown of maize-leaves.

CHAPTER XIV.

VAL DE CHAMPORCHER.-VAL DE COGNE.

Difficult mule ascent - Pont Bosel - Trout-stream Halt at Champorcher - Royal sportsmen-Châlets of Dondegna-Tradition of Notre Dame de la Neige-Fenêtre de Cogne- Summit-Lammergeiers - Glacier

scenes

Châlets of Chavannes-Night descent to Cogne - Dangerous

route - Strange quarters - The curé and his brother

mountains Costumes

Ascent of the Grivola

Return to Cogne - The bouquetin.

Sunday in the Magnificent view —

OUR intended start at five o'clock was delayed, as usual, by the laziness of the people at the inn, and we had crossed the Doire, and got among a maze of vineyards, before Delapierre came up with Mora, after making out and paying the bill-a duty which I henceforth resigned into his hands with equal satisfaction and advantage. The path led for some time under continuous bowers of trellised vines, E.'s ridinghat just clearing the pendent bunches. Pumpkins, with their broad orange-flowers and big fruit, ran rampant everywhere; and above the Spanish chesnuts, which shaded the valley, the grandly-serrated peaks of the enclosing ranges stood out gloriously against the intensely blue sky. In the freshness of the early morning all seemed radiant richness and sunshine. The country was as new to Delapierre as to ourselves, and we all entered heartily into that pleasurable feeling which attends an expedition into an unknown region, with a prospect of adventure.

The peasants who met us seemed as astonished at the mule as at ourselves; and from their patois remarks to Delapierre I gathered that the track further on was so bad that it was quite unfit for mules. We soon had a specimen of it on beginning to ascend from the bed of the valley. At

the

first I hardly imagined it possible that E. could ride up steep rock, even had her mule been able to keep its footing on the slippery ledges and smooth channels; but Mora triumphed over all difficulties, and at the end of the first hundred feet of ascent had established her character as one of the best mules we had ever seen. With a steadiness and sagacity which were surprising, she poised herself on three legs until a safe footing was found for the fourth, or at a wide reach planted her fore-feet, firmly drawing up her body as if holding by hands-or when she slipped bodily backwards on some smooth slab, took it coolly without any scrambling or stumbling, until she reached some projecting ledge to stop her way. In this manner E. got safely over the worst part of the climb, though it was no easy matter to keep her seat, and throw her weight well forward at the same time.

It was market-day at Fort Bard, and many peasants met us, descending to make their purchases, or bringing down the produce of the upper Val, which was little else than thick planks cut out of the native pine, and each of the women carried two or three on their heads, steadying themselves on the slippery rocks with their bare feet. At the sight of E. and Mora they all stopped in turn with unfeigned surprise, as a mule is almost unknown in the Val Champorcher, everything being carried up and down on their own heads or backs. More than once a group sat down to watch a special scramble up some perilous place, and heartily applauded after a successful struggle.

Many points of the scenery during the morning's ascent were striking, especially the view of Pont Bosel over the Champorcher torrent, in a basin at the head of the first reach of the valley, the picturesque bridge and foaming waters framed among the rich wood. Here the track, which was more practicable, takes a turn to the right, and skirts the torrent, which was one of the most perfect trout streams I