One Who Speaks "Ladin".

GRÖDner Thal, Looking Toward Wolkenstein.

Ruins Of Schloss Wolkenstein, GRÖDner Thal.

The Poor House At Wolkenstein. Formerly A Castle Of The Wolkenstein Family.

Especially imposing is the Schlern, whose solemn, solitary peaks and awful precipices make upon the mind an ineffaceable impression of sublimity.

The mountain scenery alone would therefore well repay one for the ascent; but, after all, what most delights one here is the Alp itself - a peace-crowned prairie of the upper world, stretching away for miles at a greater altitude than the summit of Mount Washington. It is, moreover, flooded with sunshine, and blessed with such exhilarating air that one feels buoyed up, as on eagle's wings, and is unconscious of fatigue. It is not absolutely level, - fortunately for its beauty, - but undulates in soft, green waves, which seem, when viewed from a distance, to be sweeping toward one like great ocean rollers flecked with a foam of wild flowers.

Summer On The Seisser Alp.

Over this glorious expanse, some forty miles in circuit and covered with the richest grass land, roam in the summer months innumerable herds, and scattered far and wide upon its surface are several hundred dairies, herdsmen's huts, and hay sheds. For a large summer population lives upon this lofty grazing ground, and ever since 1679 a special code of laws has regulated the peasants' use of it, as well as their mutual relations here. In August, haying goes on merrily upon the Seisser Alp, for then the immense plateau is gay with throngs of youths and maidens, who while they work send forth their bird-like jödels frequently from field to field, and in the evening, when the work is done, make the broad upland ring with music, songs, and dancing. During the winter months, of course, a vast white mantle covers this great table-land, which then becomes a battle-field for warring elements. From these fierce, ice-clad combatants man prudently retires, taking his cattle with him to the valleys, where he occupies himself with wood-carving. Yet even then, on a clear, glorious day, adventurous spirits climb up to this silent world and traverse it on snowshoes. For the inhabitants of Grödner Thal are not so busy with their sculpture as to deny themselves all recreation, and on the frequent holidays, which punctuate their lives with opportunities for pleasure, they give themselves to outdoor sports with the exuberance of children.

Winter Sports In The Grodner Thal.

Winter On The Seisser Alp.

A third remarkable gateway to the Dolomites is the majestic gorge, directly opposite Botzen, known as the Eggen Thal. This suffers nothing by comparison with the other portals. Indeed, to its extraordinary vestibule may be awarded the primacy of the picturesque. A mighty strip of porphyry, forty miles in length, thirteen in breadth, and several thousand feet in height, stretches along the western border of the Dolomites, and its huge, purplish walls form a conspicuous feature in the landscapes near Meran and Botzen. One section of its blood-red cliffs, just east of the latter city, is perforated by a deep gash, several miles in length, from which emerges a tumultuous torrent. This gash is called the Eggen Thal. Into its sombre shadow winds a carriage road, constructed at great cost and with enormous difficulty, which gradually ascends the canon, passing beneath vast, overhanging precipices, crossing repeatedly the tortuous stream by means of massive bridges, and even taking refuge within tunnels, at points where some concession to the opposition of the raging flood becomes essential. It is a solemn entrance, especially when one has some acquaintance with the Dolomitic peaks which lie beyond, and knows what weird and awful shapes they can assume. On this account the Eggen Thal is probably the most appropriate avenue of approach to those mysterious mountains. It is a corridor of time, that leads us from old, igneous rocks, forged in earth's fiery furnace when our globe was young, to coral reefs, on which the ocean waves once broke in glittering spray, but which now sparkle in the frosty air, ten thousand feet above their early home. At times one looks up almost timidly between these jaws of ruddy porphyry toward the narrow streak of blue, so far away. It seems like a celestial river, whose noiselessness, limpidity, and calm present as great a contrast to the maddened stream beside us as our ideal of heaven differs from the storms and sorrows of this earthly life.