T

HE chamois are indeed high-born, for among the high mountain-peaks, where the eternal snow rests and the Alpine roses bloom, there they make their home! There they spring up over the snowy slopes to those heights to which man cannot climb. They rest upon the glittering ice, the snow does not blind them, neither does it cool their hot blood. Carelessly they stride across the snowed-over crevices, and when the terrible storms, at which men are so alarmed, hurl down rocks and avalanches from the summits, the Chamois do not fear them. They find their way safely through the thickest mist and darkest clouds. Agile and light-footed, gentle and peaceable, proud and courageous, they lead a happy life among the mountains, as long as man does not molest them.