Frauenkirch, where we were to commence our ascent. A great pale moon was shining in a violet sky, with such stars as can only be seen in the tropics or the higher Alps. At a quarter-past five we turned from the road and began to plod up the hill-sides over alternate banks of last year's grass and slopes of snow. We carried our "ski" over our shoulders and our "ski" boots slung round our necks, for it was good walking where the snow was hard, and it was sure to be hard wherever the sun had struck it during the day. Here and there in a hollow we floundered into and out of a soft. drift up to our waists, but on the whole it was easy going, and as much of our way lay through fir woods, it would have been difficult to "ski." About half-past six, after a long, steady grind, we emerged from the woods, and shortly afterwards passed a wooden cow-house, which was the last sign of man which we were to see until we reached Arosa.
The snow being still hard enough upon the slopes to give. us a good grip for our feet, we pushed rapidly on over rolling snow-fields with a general upward tendency. About half-past seven the sun cleared the peaks behind us, and the glare upon the great expanse of virgin snow became very dazzling. We worked our way down a long slope and then, coming to the corresponding hill-side with a northern outlook, we found the snow as soft as powder and so deep that we could touch no bottom with our poles. Here, then, we took to our snow-shoes, and zig-zagged up over the long, white haunch of the mountain, pausing at the top for a rest. They are useful things, the "ski," for, finding that the snow was again hard enough to bear us, we soon converted ours into very comfortable bench, from which we enjoyed the view of a whole panorama of mountains, the names of which my readers will be relieved to hear I have completely forgotten.
The snow was rapidly softening now under the glare of the sun, and without our shoes
