A Chamois Foot Is A Smooth And Slippery Thing, Such As No
Respectable Bootmaker Would Dream Of Offering To A
Mountaineer:
there is not a nail in it, nor even an apology for a nail; the
surefootedness of its owner
Is an assumption only - a piece of faith
or impudence which fulfils itself. If some other animal were to
induce the chamois to believe that it should at the least have feet
with suckers to them, like a fly, before venturing in such
breakneck places, or if by any means it could get to know how bad a
foot it really has, there would soon be no more chamois. The
chamois continues to exist through its absolute refusal to hear
reason upon the matter. But the whole question is one of extreme
intricacy; all we know is that some animals and plants, like some
men, devote great pains to the perfection of the mechanism with
which they wish to work, while others rather scorn appliances, and
concentrate their attention upon the skilful use of whatever they
happen to have. I think, however, that in the clumsiness of the
chamois foot must lie the explanation of the fact that sometimes
when chamois are out of season, they do nevertheless actually
tumble off the rocks and get killed; being killed, of course it is
only natural that they should sometimes be found, and if found, be
eaten; but they are not good for much.
After a day or two's stay in this delightful place, we left at six
o'clock one brilliant morning in September for Dalpe and Faido,
accompanied by the excellent Signor Guglielmoni as guide.
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