spring tide--it was white and sulphury, and immeasurably deep in
appearance.[3] The side we ascended was, of course, not of so
precipitous a nature; but on arriving at the summit, we looked down
upon the other side upon a boiling sea of cloud, dashing against the
crags on which we stood (these crags on one side quite perpendicular.)
Staid a quarter of an hour--begun to descend--quite clear from cloud
on that side of the mountain. In passing the masses of snow, I made a
snowball and pelted Hobhouse with it.

[3] Ye _avalanches_, whom a breath draws down
In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me!
_I hear ye momently above, beneath,
Crash with a frequent conflict_
* * * * *
The mists boil up around the glaciers; _clouds_
_Rise curling_ fast beneath me, white and sulphury,
_Like foam from the roused ocean of deep hell!_
MANFRED.

[4] O'er the savage sea,
The glassy ocean of the mountain ice
We skim its rugged breakers, which put on
The aspect of a tumbling _tempest's_ foam
_Frozen in a moment_.
MANFRED.

"Got down to our horses again; ate something; remounted; heard the
avalanches still: came to a morass; Hobhouse dismounted to get over
well; I tried to pass my horse over; the horse sunk up to the chin,
and of course he and I were in the mud together; bemired, but not