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St. Remy, on the Italian side, and took us while we were in the clouds. We could not see an before us; we could only te upon the path because it fel under our feet from the sharp either side. We could hear th water far down upon the left, we must be close to the brink pice, with high cliffs on the othe alpenstocks alone preserved danger of pitching headlong We groped on in the darknes while, making very little hea guide was a cheerful indiv amused us with stories of tr had been waylaid and killed i borhood a short time previous. or two we came to a little ca we found some drunken Italia them we borrowed a lantern, could see the path perhaps two ahead. It was nearly midnig

Hospice, one of the life-savers, whose pictures I had seen in childhood, licking the faces of travellers that had fallen unconscious in the snow. Next morning we rose early to start for Martigny, and the monk who had entertained us had the dogs brought out from their kennels that I might take my choice. They bounded about, eight big burly fellows, barking and capering like mad. I selected Drapeau, one of the largest. The monk gave me his history, telling me that the dog had taken part in saving several lives, and was regarded as a very valuable animal. The keeper of the dogs accompanied us to a cantine, three miles below, where we were to take a wagon. Drapeau followed us on the way down; he was an immense, tancolored, short-haired animal, much like a lioness in appearance, capering about with all the delight of life and liberty in the cool

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53

morning air. His ankles were as thick as my two fists, and his neck and shoulders

were enormous.

Leaving the cantine, we lifted him into a wagon and I held on to his large leather collar to prevent him from getting away, but the moment we started and he saw that his master was not there, he leaped out and hung by the collar, struggling fiercely. It was easy to see that we could not carry him down in that fashion, so we hired his keeper to ride with us to Martigny. It would take the man two days to go and return, but there was no other way to transport the dog.

When Drapeau saw his master in the wagon he became quiet. But as soon as we reached the valley the poor animal began to suffer greatly. He was used to the cold mountain air, and the hot noonday sun in the lower altitude was too much for him. The motion of the wagon, too, made him horribly seasick, and we feared that we never should get him to Martigny alive. When we reached the inn the dog was so weak he could hardly drag one foot after another. He would neither eat nor drink, and he looked forlorn.

partments, fastened him in securely, and the train started. Near the head of Lake Geneva you change cars. Of course I thought the dog would be transferred by the porters, and I seated myself comfortably in the other train. Soon it started, and what was my surprise to see Drapeau looking sadly out from his little window in the train we had just left. Luckily, our train switched back to the station. Here I bustled about among the guards and porters, ordering them to transfer my dog, but they shrugged their shoulders exasperatingly as they answered, "C'est à vous, monsieur."

It was not easy to move that leviathan, but finally, with the assistance of my companion and two liberally bribed attendants, we dragged him out, each holding a leg, and forcibly projected him into the dogquarters of the new train. Drapeau was

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55

too badly used up to resist. He could hardly breathe. But about six o'clock in the afternoon, when we reached Geneva, the air became fresher, and he plucked up courage. The next problem was to get him to the hotel. We dragged him from his compartment, and hauled him through the station to a cab. In the cab Drapeau's vigor seemed to be entirely restored, for it took the full strength of both of us to keep him from jumping out of the window, and a yelling crowd of small boys followed us through the streets. At the Hôtel de la Paix the guests were just walking in to dinner. All stopped to look, and found us amusing. We were a picturesque sight with our alpenstocks, our leggings and spiked shoes, our flannel shirts, and our begrimed and travel-worn appearance (the result of a week's tramp), hanging on for dear life to a big dog to prevent his getting away. The porter told us of a stable near by, where he thought they would keep the animal, and we had him conveyed thither. It turned out to be a poor place for him, and so, a few days later, I marched with him myself four miles along the dusty roads south of the lake, and left him in