One of my favourite books about mountaineering is "Scrambles amongst the Alps in the years 1860-69", by Edward Whymper. My second home is the valley on the Italian side of the Matterhorn and he's the guy who first summited it.
I want to share just a little extract with you:
"But we got some innocent pleasure out of watching the gambolings of a number of goats, who became fast friends after we had given them some salt; in fact, too fast, and caused us no little annoyance when we were descending. "Carrel," I said, as a number of stones whizzled by which they had dislodged, "this must be put a stop to." "Diable!" he grunted, "it is very well to talk, but how will you do it?" I said that I would try; and sitting down, poured a little brandy in the holllow of my hand, and allured the nearest goat with deceitful gestures. It was one who has gobbled up the paper in which the salt had been carried -an animal of enterprising character- and it advanced fearlessly and licked up the brandy. I shall not forget its surpirse. It stopped short, and coughed, and looked at me as to say, "Oh, you cheat!" and spat and ran away; stopping now and then to cough and spit again. We were not troubled any more by those goats. "
Gotta fucking love these Brits! This is true mountaineering.
