The Karer See Hotel.

The Rosengarten, From St. Cyprian.

The Karer See.

The most magnificent display of color I have ever seen here was on a lovely evening in September. The sun had disappeared behind the western mountains on its way to Switzerland, but banks of clouds, like islands in a silver sea, reflected its resplendent hues and tinged the Rosengarten with the red of rubies, which gradually deepened into glorious intensity. Nature had hung originally on these glittering cliffs no tapestry of verdure; but now she made amends for her neglect, for nothing could have been more royal than the robes with which she lavishly adorned them. It seemed as if a veil had suddenly been removed from them, revealing a vast shell of molten metal, held upright in its place by some mysterious power of cohesion, but which the slightest breath might cause to burst and crumble into ashes. Even the streams of powdered dolomite, lying about the bases of the cliffs, resembled rivulets of gold. Little by little this splendor faded to a delicate pink, as if the coral reefs of long ago renewed their previous incarnation under tropic seas. Then, finally, there came a change, resembling the grayish hue that steals upon a face in death. An unseen force extinguished silently the fires of sunset, and once again the wrinkled Dolomites stood, ashen white, against the darkening sky. Yet still I watched them, fascinated by their spectral beauty. For now that their rich, incandescent glow had paled, they seemed more weird and awful than before. Some of their clustered peaks recalled the upraised hands that Vedder draws, lifted toward heaven in supplication or thanksgiving; while their long row of tapering pinnacles suggested a recessional line of white-robed vestals, leaving a ruined temple of the gods, on whose abandoned altars the last sacred fire had gone out in gloom.

Flowers In King Laurin's" Garden: The Vajolet Towers, 9188 Feet.

The Rosengarten Without Its Fire.

A Stream Of Powdered Dolomite.