chap. xviii.
ON THE MER DE GLACE.
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over, but the little rills and rivulets were still flowing along the surface of the ice; cutting deep troughs where the gradients were small; leaving ripple-marks where the water was with more difficulty confined to one channel; and falling over the precipitous walls of the great crevasses, sometimes in bounding cascades, and sometimes in diffused streams, which marked the perpendicular
 ON THE MER DE GLACE. |
faces with graceful sinuosities.[1] As night came on, their music died away, the rivulets dwindled down to rills; the rills ceased to murmur, and the sparkling drops, caught by the hand of frost, were bound to the ice, coating it with an enamelled film which lasted until the sun struck the glacier once more.
