Little Rivers [41]
to a well-constituted
mind, that on the Ristigouche "I. W." would have been at sea, for
the beloved father of all fishermen passed through this world
without ever catching a salmon. So ill does fortune match with
merit here below.
At last the days of idleness were ended. We could not
"Fold our tents like the Arabs,
and as silently steal away;"
but we took down the long rods, put away the heavy reels, made the
canoes fast to the side of the house, embarked the three horses on
the front deck, and then dropped down with the current, swinging
along through the rapids, and drifting slowly through the still
places, now grounding on a hidden rock, and now sweeping around a
sharp curve, until at length we saw the roofs of Metapedia and the
ugly bridge of the railway spanning the river. There we left our
floating house, awkward and helpless, like some strange relic of
the flood, stranded on the shore. And as we climbed the bank we
looked back and wondered whether Noah was sorry when he said good-
bye to his ark.
1888.
ALPENROSEN AND GOAT'S MILK
Nay, let me tell you, there be many that have forty times our
estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be healthful
and cheerful like us; who, with the expense of a little money, have
ate, and drank, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept
securely; and rose next day, and cast away care, and sung, and
laughed, and angled again; which are blessings rich men cannot
purchase with all their money."--IZAAK WALTON: The Complete Angler.
A great deal of the pleasure of life lies in bringing together
things which have no connection. That is the secret of humour--at
least so we are told by the philosophers who explain the jests that
other men have made--and in regard to travel, I am quite sure that
it must be illogical in order to be entertaining. The more
contrasts it contains, the better.
Perhaps it was some philosophical reflection of this kind that
brought me to the resolution, on a certain summer day, to make a
little journey, as straight as possible, from the sea-level streets
of Venice to the lonely, lofty summit of a Tyrolese mountain,
called, for no earthly reason that I can discover, the Gross-
Venediger.
But apart from the philosophy of the matter, which I must confess
to passing over very superficially at the time, there were other
and more cogent reasons for wanting to go from Venice to the Big
Venetian. It was the first of July, and the city on the sea was
becoming tepid. A slumbrous haze brooded over canals and palaces
and churches. It was difficult to keep one's conscience awake to
Baedeker and a sense of moral obligation; Ruskin was impossible,
and a picture-gallery was a penance. We floated lazily from one
place to another, and decided that, after all, it was too warm to
go in. The cries of the gondoliers, at the canal corners, grew
more and more monotonous and dreamy. There was danger of our
falling fast asleep and having to pay by the hour for a day's
repose in a gondola. If it grew much warmer, we might be compelled
to stay until the following winter in order to recover energy
enough to get away. All the signs of the times pointed northward,
to the mountains, where we should see glaciers and snow-fields, and
pick Alpenrosen, and drink goat's milk fresh from the real goat.
I.
The first stage on the journey thither was by rail to Belluno--
about four or five hours. It is a sufficient commentary on railway
travel that the most important thing about it is to tell how many
hours it takes to get from one place to another.
We arrived in Belluno at night, and when we awoke the next morning
we found ourselves in a picturesque little city of Venetian aspect,
with a piazza and a campanile and a Palladian cathedral, surrounded
on all sides by lofty hills. We were at the end of the
mind, that on the Ristigouche "I. W." would have been at sea, for
the beloved father of all fishermen passed through this world
without ever catching a salmon. So ill does fortune match with
merit here below.
At last the days of idleness were ended. We could not
"Fold our tents like the Arabs,
and as silently steal away;"
but we took down the long rods, put away the heavy reels, made the
canoes fast to the side of the house, embarked the three horses on
the front deck, and then dropped down with the current, swinging
along through the rapids, and drifting slowly through the still
places, now grounding on a hidden rock, and now sweeping around a
sharp curve, until at length we saw the roofs of Metapedia and the
ugly bridge of the railway spanning the river. There we left our
floating house, awkward and helpless, like some strange relic of
the flood, stranded on the shore. And as we climbed the bank we
looked back and wondered whether Noah was sorry when he said good-
bye to his ark.
1888.
ALPENROSEN AND GOAT'S MILK
Nay, let me tell you, there be many that have forty times our
estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be healthful
and cheerful like us; who, with the expense of a little money, have
ate, and drank, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept
securely; and rose next day, and cast away care, and sung, and
laughed, and angled again; which are blessings rich men cannot
purchase with all their money."--IZAAK WALTON: The Complete Angler.
A great deal of the pleasure of life lies in bringing together
things which have no connection. That is the secret of humour--at
least so we are told by the philosophers who explain the jests that
other men have made--and in regard to travel, I am quite sure that
it must be illogical in order to be entertaining. The more
contrasts it contains, the better.
Perhaps it was some philosophical reflection of this kind that
brought me to the resolution, on a certain summer day, to make a
little journey, as straight as possible, from the sea-level streets
of Venice to the lonely, lofty summit of a Tyrolese mountain,
called, for no earthly reason that I can discover, the Gross-
Venediger.
But apart from the philosophy of the matter, which I must confess
to passing over very superficially at the time, there were other
and more cogent reasons for wanting to go from Venice to the Big
Venetian. It was the first of July, and the city on the sea was
becoming tepid. A slumbrous haze brooded over canals and palaces
and churches. It was difficult to keep one's conscience awake to
Baedeker and a sense of moral obligation; Ruskin was impossible,
and a picture-gallery was a penance. We floated lazily from one
place to another, and decided that, after all, it was too warm to
go in. The cries of the gondoliers, at the canal corners, grew
more and more monotonous and dreamy. There was danger of our
falling fast asleep and having to pay by the hour for a day's
repose in a gondola. If it grew much warmer, we might be compelled
to stay until the following winter in order to recover energy
enough to get away. All the signs of the times pointed northward,
to the mountains, where we should see glaciers and snow-fields, and
pick Alpenrosen, and drink goat's milk fresh from the real goat.
I.
The first stage on the journey thither was by rail to Belluno--
about four or five hours. It is a sufficient commentary on railway
travel that the most important thing about it is to tell how many
hours it takes to get from one place to another.
We arrived in Belluno at night, and when we awoke the next morning
we found ourselves in a picturesque little city of Venetian aspect,
with a piazza and a campanile and a Palladian cathedral, surrounded
on all sides by lofty hills. We were at the end of the