When we reached the more even part of the valley, where the
Reuse no longer roars and rushes far below, but winds quietly through
the soft grass on a level with the rail, the whole grouping was so
exceedingly charming, and the river itself so suggestive of lusty trout,
and the village of Noiraigue[48] looked so tempting as it nestled in a
sheltered nook among the headlong precipices, that I registered in a
safe mental pigeon-hole a week at the auberge there with a fishing-rod,
and excursions to the commanding summit in which the _Creux de Vent_ is
found. The engine-driver knew that he was in a region of beauties, and,
when he whistled to warn his passengers that the train was about to move
on, he remained stationary until the long-resounding echoes died out,
floating lingeringly up the valley to neighbouring France.
We had no definite idea as to the _locale_ of the glaciere we were now
bent upon attacking. M. Thury's list gave the following
information:--'_Glaciere de Motiers, Canton de Neufchatel, entre les
vallees de Travers et de la Brevine, pres du sentier de la Brevine_;'
and this I had rendered somewhat more precise by a cross-examination of
the guard of the train on my way to Besancon.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159