ore
impressive, a small projecting wall of rock marks the entry to the
gigantic amphitheatre. This passed, the end of the world seems gained:
a vast semicircle of rocks rises precipitously to the height of
between 1000 and 2000 feet. These gigantic walls are divided into
three or four steps or ledges, on each of which rests a glacier, from
which stream cascades. That to the left is 1266 feet high, and bears
the reputation of being the highest waterfall in Europe. The summit of
this wondrous amphitheatre is crowned by everlasting ice and snow,
resting on the crests of the Cylindre, so called from its shape, and
10,500 feet high. The base of this fine mountain is embedded in a huge
glacier, which gives birth to the high fall. Fit companion to the
Cylindre rises the Tours de Marbore, forming a part of Mont Perdu. Not
a scrap of vegetation breaks the ruggedness of the vast semicircle of
rocks. The floor of the Cirque is an irregular heap of rocks, with the
exception of a large heap of snow at the base of the precipices, under
which the waters of the cascades run, like the torrents beneath the
Swiss glaciers.

It was impossible to take in this sublime spectacle at once, so
overpowering were its features; and as we gazed tremblingly at the
huge Cirque, I felt as if on the eve of being crushed by its impending
walls.

Within a few yards of the most western cascade, the ascent to the
Breche is made. Without a guide, however, the precise spot would be
exceedingly difficult to find; and from its forbidding nature, few
would be bold enough to make the essay. It is literally a rock-ladder,
and is the only locality in the wide sweep of the Cirque affording the
means of ascent. The rugged strata, which are here vertical, serve as
steps in which one can insert the toes and fingers; but as the
guidebook truly says: 'It is as abrupt as the ascent of a ladder; and
wide spaces of smooth rock often intervene without any notch or
projection offering a foothold. To those who cannot look down a sheer
precipice many hundred feet deep without a tendency to giddiness,
there is danger in this escalade, as well as in passing over some
smooth projecting shoulders of rocks.' The climb is, in truth, most
arduous--'bien penible,' as my guide said. My _chaussure_ was sadly
against me--thin-soled boots, which doubled under me. Let no one
undertake this ascent without being strongly shod.

As we ascended, new wonders were revealed--more precipices, c