THE PRÄTIGAU—VERSTANKLA THOR—TARASP—PIZ PISOC—PASSO DEL DIAVEL—LIVIGNO—MONTE ZEMBRASCA—PASSO DI DOSDÈ—VAL GROSINA.
In the last two chapters I have sketched a route from the highway of traffic and tourists—the Rhine valley—to the Italian Alps, passing to the west of the crowded roads which lead to the Upper Engadine. My design now is to point out a similar track lying to the east both of the Julier and the Albula, which by means of variations may be made equally available either for the foot or carriage traveller.
Our starting-point is the station of Landquart, some miles beyond Ragatz and short of Chur, and opposite the opening of the long, deep Prätigau.
Above the gorge which secludes this side valley from the Rheinthal a car-track mounts to Seewis, an upland village with 'Pensions,' frequented in summer by Swiss guests, whence the ascent of the Scesa Plana, an isolated block commanding a wide panorama, and enclosing in its recesses a large mountain lake—the Luner See—is often made.
This frontier valley rivals as a specimen of Swiss pastoral scenery the more famous spots in Canton Bern. Its villages, surrounded by fat, wide-spreading meadows of the brightest green, and overshadowed by noble walnuts, wear on the outside an air of long peace and prosperity. The interiors do not contradict the first impression. In the wayside inns one finds rich brown panelled walls decorated here and there with armorial bearings, old mirrors and carved presses. Mountainous stoves tower in peak form to the ceiling, and are cased in tiles, each of which represents some Scripture scene in a style often remarkable both for vigour and humour.
After twenty-four miles of tolerably continuous ascent the road reaches the upper expanse of the Prätigau and the scattered hamlets of Klosters. The scenery is of a character more common in Tyrol than Switzerland. Although it does not awe by sublimity or enchant by richness and variety, it is yet thoroughly Alpine.
Behind a foreground of level meadows and green but bold hillsides the glaciers and snow-peaks shine modestly but invitingly in the distance. They are not, as in the Bernese Oberland, magnificently rampant intruders on the pasturages, but quiet, stream-nursing benefactors, whose acquaintance is never forced on you, and must be sought out with some trouble.
Consequently the charm of such valleys is a self-contained peacefulness; and a troop of cows rather than a herd of chamois represents the animal life in harmony with their sentiment.
At the bridge of Klosters, in 1866, my companion deserted me for England. Francis and I wanted to turn south again to the Engadine, and we determined to take a glance by the way at the retiring beauties of the Silvretta Ferner. This considerable glacier group, scarcely known to Englishmen, runs parallel to the Lower Engadine, separating that valley from the Tyrolese Montafun and Paznaun Thal, and abutting at its western end against the head of the Prätigau. The Swiss Alpine Club made it one year the scene of their summer excursion, and have conquered most of its peaks and passes. At their instigation a hut has been built four and a half hours from Klosters, close to the glaciers, and there we intended to pass the night.
A new inn and pension was just opened on the left bank of the stream, and I did not long remain without society in the salon. First appeared an invalid from the Baths of Serneus, who speedily broke down my German by preferring to talk of war-politics rather than of mountains. Next came a gentleman from Chur bound for Davos, who puzzled me still more by launching into what he gave me to understand was English. Last of all the local guide turned up, armed with testimonials from the Swiss Alpine Club, and aghast at the notion of any traveller crossing the glaciers without his aid. Finding the native willing to accompany us on very moderate terms, and being one too few for a glacier pass, we readily agreed to take him.