The houses here are of a wholly different construction from those we have previously seen, being all quite similarly constructed of broad, gently sloping gables and roofs, the latter of which are covered with slates of enormous size, I suppose to preserve them from the power of the winds which blow through the valley. A gallery with a rail is to be seen on one end, where the wood-store is located. The upper section of the building forms a store-room for fodder and provisions, and for small fowl. The lower part is usually divided, one half of which is used by the family, and the other for the livestock. The villagers are also different from their Valasian neighbours to a surprising degree in their dress: the women wear a short jacket of blue with white sleeves, petticoats of various colours, and caps that are topped by round, straw hats with a shallow crown. Shoes and stockings are seen, but do not appear to be regarded by the inhabitants as a necessity—-which I do not understand at all, it being often very cold here, and always one walks with sharp stones underfoot. On Sundays and days of religious festival, all wear stockings—-I have heard of the custom of covering the head in honour of Our Lord, but I never heard that the feet were similarly offending. The complexions of the rustics are generally brown, and many in these parts are afflicted with throats swollen from the goître, which is apparently very common, for which the water is blamed. The cottagers are industrious and clean in their dress and persons, but the houses and churches are often quite dirty.

We also met with a group of Swiss soldiers, returning from the border, I imagine—or I should say groups, as they were rather straggling than marching. In appearance or in dress, being cloathed in rag-tag bits and pieces of no particular uniform, they bear no comparison to our smart and manly English men-at-arms. Here the men are one and all trained to arms in their youth, and, in defence of their own country, I am sure are as brave as any in Europe. This country is unusual in that, although all Swissmen have required military service each year, the defenses of the country rest with a relatively small army of mercenaries. Looking about me, however, the mountains of Switzerland are certainly its most formidable army.

As with many of the villages in Switzerland, at Chaummouni we are surrounded by valleys of immense glacial seas of ice, of an astonishing thickness and extent. Fearful chasms and yawning gaps are everywhere to be seen and crossed in passing. Looking down into the depths of these gulfs reveals ice of the most beautiful and variegated colours—no uniformity of blue or white, as one would expect, but a veritable rainbow of colours arising in response to the light of day.