leaving the splendour of extensive prospects, they now entered this narrow valley screened by rocks on rocks piled, as if by magic spell, here scorch'd by lightnings, there with ivy green.
the scene of barrenness was here and there interrupted by the spreading branches of the larch and cedar, which threw their gloom over the cliff, or athwart the torrent that rolled in the vale.no living creature appeared, except the izard, scrambling among the rocks, and often hanging upon points so dangerous, that fancy shrunk from the view of them.this was such a scene as salvator would have chosen, had he then existed, for his canvas; st.aubert, impressed by the romantic character of the place, almost expected to see banditti start from behind some projecting rock, and he kept his hand upon the arms with which he always travelled.
as they advanced, the valley opened; its savage features gradually softened, and, towards evening, they were among heathy mountains, stretched in far perspective, along which the solitary sheep-bell was heard, and the voice of the shepherd calling his wandering flocks to the nightly fold.his cabin, partly shadowed by the cork-tree and the ilex, which st.aubert observed to flourish in higher regions of the air than any other trees, except the fir, was all the human habitation that yet appeared.along the bottom of this valley the most vivid verdure was spread; and, in the little hollow recesses of the mountains, under the shade of the oak and chestnut, herds of cattle were grazing.groups of them, too, were often seen reposing on the banks of the rivulet, or laving their sides in the cool stream, and sipping its wave.