blue bugle, and white bramble-flowers, but perhaps with the alp-
rose and the "gemsen-kraut" of Mont Blanc, at least with Alpine
Saxifrages which have now retreated a thousand feet up the mountain
side, and with the blue Snow-Gentian, and the Canadian Sedum, which
have all but vanished out of the British Isles. And what is it
which tells him that strange story? Yon smooth and rounded surface
of rock, polished, remark, across the strata and against the grain;
and furrowed here and there, as if by iron talons, with long
parallel scratches. It was the crawling of a glacier which
polished that rock-face; the stones fallen from Snowdon peak into
the half-liquid lake of ice above, which ploughed those furrows.
AEons and aeons ago, before the time when Adam first


"Embraced his Eve in happy hour,
And every bird in Eden burst
In carol, every bud in flower,"


those marks were there; the records of the "Age of ice;" slight,
truly; to be effaced by the next farmer who needs to build a wall;
but unmistakeable, boundless in significance, like Crusoe's one
savage footprint on the sea-shore; and the naturalist acknowledges
the finger-mark of God, and wonders, and worships.

Happy, especially, is the sportsman who is also a naturalist: for
as he roves in pursuit of his game, over hills or up the beds of
streams where no one but a sportsman ever thinks of going, he will
be certain to see things noteworthy, which the mere naturalist
would never find, simply because he could never guess that they