tiful as a dream, and now to me almost as indistinct. I am so
tired;--for, though healthy, I have not the strength I possessed but a
few years ago. At Montbovon we breakfasted; afterwards, on a steep
ascent, dismounted; tumbled down; cut a finger open; the baggage also
got loose and fell down a ravine, till stopped by a large tree;
recovered baggage; horse tired and drooping; mounted mule. At the
approach of the summit of Dent Jument[1] dismounted again with
Hobhouse and all the party. Arrived at a lake in the very bosom of the
mountains; left our quadrupeds with a shepherd, and ascended farther;
came to some snow in patches, upon which my forehead's perspiration
fell like rain, making the same dints as in a sieve; the chill of the
wind and the snow turned me giddy, but I scrambled on and upwards.
Hobhouse went to the highest pinnacle; I did not, but paused within a
few yards (at an opening of the cliff.) In coming down, the guide
tumbled three times; I fell a laughing, and tumbled too--the descent
luckily soft, though steep and slippery; Hobhouse also fell, but
nobody hurt. The whole of the mountains superb. A shepherd on a very
steep and high cliff playing upon his _pipe_; very different from
_Arcadia_, where I saw the pastors with a long musket instead of a
crook, and pistols in their girdles. Our Swiss shepherd's pipe was
sweet, and his tune agreeable. I saw a cow strayed; am told that they
often break their necks on and over the crags. Descended to Montbovon;
pretty scraggy village, with a wild river and a wooden bridge.
Hobhouse went to fish--caught one. Our carriage not come; our horses,
mules, &c. knocked up; ourselves fatigued.

[1] Dent de Jaman.

"The view from the highest points of to-day's journey comprised on one
side the greatest part of Lake Leman; on the other, the valleys and
mountain of the Canton of Fribourg, and an immense plain, with the
Lakes of Neuchatel and Morat, and all which the borders of the Lake of
Geneva inherit; we had both sides of the Jura before us in one point
of view, with Alps in plenty. In passing a ravine, the guide
recommended strenuously a quickening of pace, as the stones fall with
great rapidity and occasional damage; the advice is excellent, but,
like most good advice, impracticable, the road being so rough that
neither mules, nor mankind, nor horses, can make any violent progress.
Passed without fractures or menace thereof.

"The music of the cows' bells (for their w