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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b328c58 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67842 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67842) diff --git a/old/67842-0.txt b/old/67842-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4d757bd..0000000 --- a/old/67842-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5534 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Oberland Châlet, by Edith Elmer -Wood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: An Oberland Châlet - -Author: Edith Elmer Wood - -Release Date: April 14, 2022 [eBook #67842] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Fay Dunn, Fiona Holmes and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OBERLAND CHÂLET *** - - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes. - -Hyphenation has been standardised. - -There is no Table of Contents - -Page 36 — Haüslicher changed to häuslicher - -Page 70 — Fraülein changed to Fräulein - - - - -AN OBERLAND CHÂLET - -[Illustration: THE CHÂLET] - - -[Illustration: _Grindelwald Lower Glacier_] - - - - - AN - OBERLAND - CHÂLET - - _By_ EDITH ELMER WOOD - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK - WESSELS & BISSELL CO. - 1910 - - - - - Copyright, 1910, by - WESSELS & BISSELL CO. - October - - THE PREMIER PRESS - NEW YORK - - - - - _Affectionately dedicated to the other - occupants of the Châlet Edelweiss._ - -[Illustration: THE WETTERHORN SEEN THROUGH THE TREES FROM THE FAULHORN -PATH] - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - - - Grindelwald Lower Glacier _Frontispiece_ - - PAGE - - Grindelwald Valley and Wetterhorn 30 - - Mönch and Jungfrau from the Männlichen 66 - - Grimsel Hospice 84 - - The Matterhorn from the outskirts of Zermatt 124 - - Mont Blanc—Glacier des Bossons 176 - - Bach Lake (Faulhorn Route) 202 - - Brienz Village and Lake 220 - - Lucerne, Old Covered Bridge and Water Tower 224 - - The Banks of the Reuss, Saint Gotthard Pass 230 - - The Glacier from below the Schwarzegg Hut - looking towards the Strahlegg and Schreckhorn 266 - - Lauterbrunnen 274 - - -[Illustration: FRITZ BINER, THE GUIDE] - - - - -APOLOGIA - - -At a period when everybody travels, and the yearly number of -English-speaking visitors in Switzerland is counted by the hundred -thousand, the writer who presumes to offer the long-suffering public a -book of Swiss impressions would seem to be courting the yawn reserved -for the N^{th} repetition of the Utterly Familiar. But the discoverer -of a new country still has, I believe, some privileges. It might even -be considered selfish of one who had found the way back to Arcadia to -keep the sailing directions secret. And though there are countless -tourists who know the Swiss hotels and mountain railroads, numerous -villa people well versed in the tennis and golf facilities of Montreux -or Lucerne, and a goodly company of Alpinists who can tell you all -about guides and ropes and the ascent of the Matterhorn, there never -was anybody who got out of a Swiss summer precisely what we did, or -who, in fact, knows our own particular private Switzerland at all. - -In the beginning, there were but four—no, five—of us,—Belle Soeur and -my two Babes and I and our good French Suzanne, who, besides looking -out for the Younger Babe, performed various useful functions about -the house. After some six weeks Frater and his college chum, Antonio, -dropped in on us from their commencement across the sea, and a few days -later the Mother. - -Now the Husband-and-Father, who is also the brother of Belle Soeur, and -incidentally a naval officer, had been ordered from the Mediterranean, -where he had been cruising, to the Philippines, which are not so nice, -especially for Babes, particularly in summer. So, instead of following -him when we gave up our little villa on the hills above Nice the -first of June, we moved into Switzerland. None of us had ever been -there before except the Chronicler and the Mother, who had spent the -usual sort of summer there when the Chronicler was a small child. We -knew we wanted to be high enough for bracing air, as far as possible -from tourist centers and among the really and truly great and lofty -mountains. So we went to Interlaken for a start and hunted around -among the neighboring mountain villages till we found what we were -after. And on the tenth day we moved into the Châlet Edelweiss, which -lies about a mile and a half from the Grindelwald station on the road -to the Upper Glacier, and started housekeeping. - -It did not seem very propitious that first day. It was raining dismally -when we got off the train; the roads were full of mud, and the clouds -had rolled down over the mountains, so that nothing could be seen but -the big brick Bear Hotel and the ugly village street lined with shops -and restaurants. I tried to remember how beautiful it had been the day -I was in Grindelwald house-hunting, and the others tried to act as if -they believed what I was telling them about it, but I knew they didn’t, -and they knew I knew they didn’t. When we got to the house, it, too, -was depressing. On the bright sunshiny day when I had seen it before, -it had looked primitive enough, but now it seemed aggressively barren -and comfortless. Was it possible that we could live in this barn for -four months? I could see the effort the family were making to act as -if they liked it—all but the Younger Babe, who made no effort at all, -but got frankly quivery about the lower lip and begged to be taken back -to the Villetta Valentine at Nice or even to the hotel in Interlaken. -“I don’t like this house!” he said. “It’s an ugly house. It’s _not_ -a happy little home. It’s ugly. It hasn’t got any ‘fings’ in it. It -hasn’t even got any paper on the wall!” - -Now, this was quite true. Walls, ceilings and floors were all of the -same, well-scrubbed, unpainted pine boards, and “fings” were limited to -strictly essential furniture of the plainest type. And it’s wonderful -how little is strictly essential when you get down to it. But at the -age of three material accessories are apt to assume an exaggerated -importance. Every infant is by nature a snob till the tendency is -reasoned or spanked out of him. - -With wholly artificial buoyancy, we wandered over the house, -apportioning beds and rooms and hunting for something to cheer up -the Babe. We found it to a certain extent in what he dubbed the two -“_Charmantes bêtes_” which stood in the dining-room. They were stuffed -chamois, and all summer we intended asking if the Herr Secundärlehrer -had shot them himself, but somehow we got away without settling the -question. A wreath awarded to him as first prize at a _Schützenfest_, -which hung framed on the wall, made it seem quite likely that he _did_ -shoot them. These two _bêtes_ formed, with a melodion, a narrow deal -table and six chairs, the furniture of the dining-room. The rooms had -only been differentiated into dining-room, sitting-room and bedrooms -for our benefit. The furniture had all been jumbled up when I saw the -house before, and every room except the kitchen had had one or more -beds in it. - -I wonder if I can make you see the Châlet Edelweiss? It is the -regulation Oberland châlet of the better type,—exactly like the -tooth-pick boxes if you don’t know it otherwise. The basement is -of whitewashed concrete and contains a small grocery store kept by -the Frau Secundärlehrer when she isn’t teaching school or farming, -and which she said she was sure would not annoy us because it was -so very small and hardly anybody ever came there to buy anything. -There isn’t any basement at the back of the house because the sloping -hillside brings the ground to the level of the kitchen and dining-room -windows. _Our_ part of the châlet consists of two stories of unpainted -wood, surmounted by a big red roof. The shutters are painted bright -green. At both ends of the house are broad two-storied balconies. The -only staircases are on the balconies. There are moments when this -is inconvenient. Above the second-story windows on the front of the -house runs a legend in large black Gothic letters, saying that the -Secundärlehrer and his wife caused this house to be built by such and -such a master carpenter. Some of the houses in the village have verses -or mottoes painted on them, and we always regretted a little that ours -did not. It was rather nice to see the wife’s name associated with the -husband’s in this matter. Doubtless her dowry had helped build the -house, certainly her industry was helping to maintain it. But it was -rather decent of him to recognize the fact. - -The châlet has been built only two years, so its timbers have not -acquired the rich sepia and burnt-Sienna tones which make the old ones -such a joy to the eye. But the new kind is better to live in! - -The house stands just above the highroad. Behind it the green Alpine -meadows roll steeply upward to the Faulhorn ridge, which separates -Grindelwald valley from the depression occupied by Lake Brienz. There -are between four and five thousand upward feet in this direction, -we being at about the four-thousand-foot level ourselves. Below the -road, the land runs down rapidly to the rushing Lütschine, the stream -which drains the glaciers. We can hear the roar of the water plainly, -especially at night. From the other side of the stream rise almost -precipitously the rocky cliffs of the Mettenberg, getting up about -ten thousand feet. To the left the gleaming snow and ice of the Upper -Glacier, then the square gray, snow-capped mass of the Wetterhorn. To -the right the Lower Glacier, with broad white firns and snow peaks, -and to the right of the glacier the knife-edged Eiger. These three -giants fill up our whole immediate foreground. Far to the right is -the saddle-like depression known as the Kleine Scheidegg, where the -mountain railroad runs over into the Lauterbrunnen Valley, and to -the left of the Wetterhorn, the narrow end of the Grindelwald Valley -is closed by a similar saddle,—the Grosse Scheidegg, which separates -it from the Rosenlaui Valley. To the extreme right is the rift in -the mountains through which the Lütschine escapes and the railroad -gets down to Interlaken. But it was all veiled in mist the first -day. We couldn’t see fifty feet in any direction. There were some -few tantalizing glimpses as the clouds began to break apart about -sunset. But the family had to take on faith the “glorious views” I had -described till next morning. - -The one heart-warming spot in the chilly interior of the châlet that -first afternoon was the kitchen, where the Frau Secundärlehrer, in -the kindness of her heart, assisted by her little Dienst-Mädchen, was -beating up the eggs and milk, which I had asked her to get for me, -into an omelet. We really had no use for an omelet at half-past four -in the afternoon, but we would not have dampened her hospitable zeal -by letting her see our lack of appetite. So we sat down dutifully at -the deal table between the melodion and the stuffed chamois and ate it. -Then the Frau and her handmaiden bade us good-night and left us—masters -of all we surveyed, including a fine crop of partially repressed blues. - -Who would ever have guessed this was the opening scene of the finest -summer that ever happened? - - - - -II - - -There is nothing particularly joyous about the process of starting a -new house running anywhere at any time. _Experta crede._ But when you -are a stranger in a strange land, whose language you are imperfectly -acquainted with and whose inhabitants are as uncommunicative as oysters -and inclined to regard the foreigner as an enemy till he has proved the -contrary, the difficulties are considerably aggravated. - -Among the rank and file of the people in the German cantons of -Switzerland, there seem to be three classes:—those who have come -in contact overmuch with tourists and have been spoiled by it; -the low-browed, stupid type, surly and hostile; and the honest, -intelligent, fresh-cheeked, unspoiled, who are never effusive, but -frank always and friendly to those who seem to deserve it, staunch, -reliable, independent, self-respecting, in every way admirable,—the -bone and sinew and hope of Switzerland. The first class are nearly -as extortionate and conscienceless as their confrères in France and -Italy without the charming Latin manners that make one forgive their -iniquity. At their worst, this type is insufferable. But one can -escape. Two miles off the tourist tracks, one never finds them. - -The second class one can only be sorry for. It is not their fault that -their brains and bodies are stunted by cretinism or intermarriage of -relatives or insufficient nourishment or too much carrying of heavy -burdens. Their skin is sallow, eyes dull, features heavy. One usually -finds them tending cattle, whom they closely resemble, or inhabiting -isolated châlets. If you speak to them, they either stare open-mouthed -and answer nothing, or in the most unsatisfactory manner. I do not -know whether they are capable of affection for their own people. They -certainly waste none of it on outsiders. - -There was a man of this type who lived in a châlet on the hill above -us, who came out and hit the Elder Babe a resounding cuff on the -head, ejaculating some wrathful Swiss German, which the poor Babe did -not in the least understand. The Babe was doing nothing more sinful -than looking in the grass for a pen-knife he had lost, but doubtless -this man, with his poor cramped crooked wits, suspected him of some -deep-dyed villainy. - -There was also a boy in the neighborhood about twelve years old, who -used to lie in wait for the Elder Babe with a large stick and attack -him viciously. I would have let the Babe (who was seven) fight it out -with him, trusting to the triumph of mind over matter, if the lad had -not been so absolutely unintelligent and brute-like in appearance that -I thought he might crush the Babe’s skull with a rock or push him off a -precipice if he was angered. - -Every once in a while one hears of some queer stupid outrage in -Switzerland—the tires of an automobile chopped up or obstructions -put at a dangerous turn in the road to upset a traveling carriage. I -imagine it is always one of these quasi-deficients who is responsible -for it. - -In the whole world I do not know a finer people, nor one more -charming to deal with, than the healthy, intelligent class of Swiss, -God-fearing, law-abiding, domestic, industrious, self-respecting, -clean in mind and body. When I had once beaten my way through their -uncommunicativeness and learned where I could get the necessities of -life, I found it indescribably restful, after the perpetual battle -over trifles of my eight months’ housekeeping on the Riviera, to throw -myself on the mercy of these good people, secure in the consciousness -that they would take no advantage of my ignorance, and that the price -of an article would be the same whether I asked before buying it or -after. - -One of the brothers of the family that kept the meat shop was a guide -in his leisure moments and was building up a fine reputation for skill -and daring. While we were in Grindelwald he covered himself with glory -by successfully doing some things that had never been done before. -With an Alpinist from Berne, he crawled along the knife-blade edge -of the Eiger, Heaven knows how many hours without sleep or rest or -proper food, without standing up or sitting down, just clinging and -creeping,—a feat which had been accomplished only once many years ago. -It was pretty to see how proud his family were of him. A younger -brother especially, once his shy reserve was overcome by sympathetic -questions, talked about him as though he had won the Victoria Cross at -the very least. I do really think they were the only firm of butchers I -ever met who did not need to be watched while weighing the meat! - -The bakery people were admirable, too, especially the young, -rosy-cheeked wife, who usually tended shop, and the bright-faced little -girl who brought the bread each morning. They had a small grocery -attachment to the bakery, but I found it was not etiquette for me to -buy there anything which I could get from the Frau Secundärlehrer in -our basement. In the bakery one day I saw some packages of tapioca -stacked up on a shelf, and, with the Babes in mind, ordered some sent -next morning. It did not come and, supposing it had been overlooked, -I stopped in later to get it. “My little girl took it up this morning -with the bread,” said the baker’s wife, smiling sweetly, “but she found -the Frau Secundärlehrer kept it in stock, so of course she brought it -back.” I must have looked a little blank, for she added, “The Frau -Secundärlehrer might think it strange if you got it from us instead of -her.” - -Having learned this local canon, I struggled dutifully to conform -to it, though it was by no means always convenient. The Frau -Secundärlehrer’s store was open only at odd times when the Frau was at -leisure. It was always closed during the morning hours when one usually -makes purchases for the day. After sending the cook to the village in -the morning for marketing and piously leaving some grocery article to -be purchased from the Frau in the afternoon, it was hardly soothing to -find that she was just out of it or had never had it—and the nearest -other grocery a mile and a half away! - -There may have been other local rules of procedure equally sacred that -I never did find out, and so unwittingly offended against to the end. -I do not believe the Schweizer would be forgiving toward shortcomings -of this sort. He is beautifully confident that the _Herr Gott_ approves -of Swiss ways and dislikes foreigners, and this gives him a virtuous -rigidity in resisting innovations. There may have been some such -all-unconscious sin on my part to account for the strange behavior of -the Herr Secundärlehrer at the end of the season. But we won’t worry -about that till the time comes. - -The way we got our milk is worth describing. The cattle went up to the -high pastures a few days after our arrival. They went by our house, -and all day long we heard the tinkle of the cow-bells, the tramping of -their patient feet, and the pushing and rubbing of their heavy swaying -bodies, and the air was full of their breath as though we were in a -dairy-yard. All the cattle in the valley go up about the middle of -June (as soon as the snow is off the ground) and come down the latter -part of September. The pasture lands are owned by the commune, and -each burgher of the valley has the right to keep a certain number of -cows there. There is a head-man in charge of each commune’s cattle, -who, with a corps of assistants, lives up on the heights all summer. -Their chief occupation is cheese-making. They are allowed such milk -and cheese as they need for themselves during the summer (which, with -coarse black bread, practically forms the whole of their diet), and -at the end of the season receive a share of the cheese made in lieu of -wages, the rest going per capita to the cattle-owners. Meat and eggs -are scarce and dear, and this cheese forms the staple of the valley’s -food through the winter. - -In the more distant pastures, all the milk not drunk by the cattle men -is made into cheese, but from these Alps near Grindelwald a certain -amount of fresh milk is sold, being brought down six or eight miles -each morning strapped to the back of a man, in a cylinder of white -unpainted wood that must hold from ten to fifteen gallons. - -Do not imagine that we learned all this at once. It represents the -wisdom of the summer, gathered and pieced together, bit by bit. All we -knew just then was that more cows than we had ever seen in our lives -were going past, and it was a good thing that they were not nervous -animals, or their bells would surely drive them crazy. Most of them -were small affairs hung around the neck from a narrow leather collar. -But sometimes the collar was as much as four inches wide and the bell -a great jangling piece of metal seven or eight inches long and about -the same width. It must have been a real burden for the cow to carry -and the stiff collar a severe infliction. We never _did_ learn the -philosophy of these vagaries in cow adornment. - -The Herr Secundärlehrer told us, on inquiry, during those first days, -that the Alpine milk was the best to be had, although it cost more, -and that perhaps he could secure it for us during the summer (it was a -favor, you understand) if we would say definitely what amount we would -take. It could neither be increased nor decreased afterwards and it -must be paid for all together at the end of the season. “But I prefer -paying my bills each month,” I said. “Can’t be done,” he replied. -It was very mysterious, but we let it go at that, and the milk was -delicious. - -Later, after the young men and the Mother had joined us, I found we -needed more milk. I lay in wait for the man who brought the milk, after -the cook had tried her hand on him in vain, and asked him if there was -not some way by which we could get an extra liter or so per day. He -was one of the stupid variety and his “_Nein_” was like the speech of a -stone statue (if stone statues spoke), without a flicker of expression. -Wouldn’t it be possible if we paid a higher price for it? _Nein._ -Wasn’t there a head-man who would have the authority to sell me more -if I went to see him? _Nein._ I think he regarded me as the Scarlet -Woman referred to in the Scriptures and felt that his soul would be -endangered by further parley. So he walked off without any nonsense in -the way of apology or farewell. - -The only milk then to be bought was what came up from Interlaken, and -even that we could not buy direct, since the man who sold it did not go -on his rounds so far as our house. The baker took in a liter for us and -we sent for it in the afternoon, and it was often sour and always pale -and watery. - -The admixture of water was not entirely unknown in our Alpine milk, -for Frater one day came upon a milk-bearer cheerfully filling up his -vessel from a mountain brook. Perhaps he had stumbled and spilt some, -or perhaps he had been thirsty and drunk some, and of course he had -a precise and definite quantity to deliver. I will not believe he -had sold any on the side. It would not be in character. And I do not -believe it could have happened often, or the milk would not have been -so good. - -For the benefit of intending housekeepers in the Oberland, I would say -that marketing, when one has learned the ropes, is an easy matter, -if the family is blessed with good appetites and is contented with -simple fare and small variety. In meat there was always veal and pork -to be had, beef and mutton only occasionally. When we wanted poultry -we had to send to Interlaken for it, and the price was appalling, -thirteen francs for a pair of small chickens hardly enough for a meal. -Nearly everybody owned a few chickens, but they would not sell them, -and eggs were often hard to get. As for fresh vegetables and fruit, -we were wholly dependent on a rascally Italian who kept a fruit shop -for tourists near the station and charged tourist prices for inferior -articles. The only time he ever gave us good value was toward the -end of the season when Antonio happened to address him in Italian, -and he and his wife glowed all over and heaped up the grapes in the -bag. But that did not prevent them from palming off a collection of -absolutely rotten pears on my poor unsuspecting cook the next day! -No fruit is grown in the valley except a few late apples on the road -down to Interlaken, and the little wild strawberries that come up for -themselves in June, no vegetables except cabbages and carrots and the -like, which each family toilfully raises for its own use and cannot be -induced to sell. The Frau Secundärlehrer had some lettuce which she -generously invited us to help ourselves to as long as it lasted, but -she would not _sell_ it. One hardly realizes that it is summer, for one -has to depend so much on canned things. One learns to eat a lot of the -local cheese, which is always good. And I must not forget the honey. It -is the invariable accompaniment of the Swiss breakfast, which consists -for the rest of rolls and butter, coffee and milk. When the bees have -gathered their honey from the wild flowers on the Alpine meadows, the -flavor is complexly delicious. One soon learns to despise the insipid -lowland product. - -I must not forget the salt, nor the long morning spent in hunting -for that useful staple. I ordered it the first day from our basement -grocery. It didn’t come, and I repeated the order. I was told the Frau -had none. I supposed she was just out of it and asked Belle Soeur, -who was going into the village, to get some at any grocer’s. She went -dutifully to every grocer in the village and grew more and more puzzled -at being everywhere told they didn’t keep it. She knew the Swiss used -the condiment, for she had been eating it. She inquired and was told -to go to the post-office. This sounded so perfectly foolish that she -paid no attention to it and inquired elsewhere. She received the same -answer. After she had been told three times to go the post-office, she -went there, feeling distinctly idiotic as she asked the old man behind -the stamp window if he sold salt. To her astonishment, the reply was -affirmative. Salt, it appears, is a government monopoly in Switzerland, -and, in Grindelwald at least, the postmaster had the exclusive right -to sell it. In time it became perfectly natural to say, “Give me five -postage stamps and a kilo of salt,” but it required practice. - - - - -III - - -Looking out on cocoa-palms and mango trees from my Puerto Rican balcony -(whatever bad things may be said about the life of a naval officer’s -wife, nobody ever accused it of monotony) it is hard to realize that -last summer our outlook was on Alpine meadows and glaciers.... How -can I catch and imprison in words that glorious Swiss air or the more -elusive spiritual atmosphere of it all? How tint the pictures with that -characteristic “local color” of which we talked so much that it became -family slang? - -The air at first was a little thin for us, and we easily got out -of breath. Accustoming ourselves to it and gradually enlarging our -climbing radius, we were soon doubling and by the end of the season -nearly trebling our altitude without inconvenience. It was when we -went down to the low levels that we felt oppressed by the dense air -and fatigued by the heat. A sudden change of altitude either up or -down most of us found produced clicking of the eardrums alternating -with a wad-of-cotton-in-the-ear sensation. Antonio was like the man -who couldn’t shiver. His eardrums wouldn’t click. Our assurance to -him that there was nothing especially joyous in the sensation made no -difference. He felt that he wasn’t in the swim, and it grieved him. - -There was certainly a magic in the air. It made us all healthy and -hungry and happy and filled us with the desire and eventually the -ability to walk almost unlimited distances. - -Belle Soeur, the Elder Babe and I did most of the preliminary exploring -together. Shall I ever forget the beauty of the wild flowers that first -month? They were lovely all summer, but never so lovely nor so many -as during June, when the Alpine meadows in our vicinity were all blue -with forget-me-nots or yellow and purple with little Johnny-jump-ups. -I don’t remember the gentians till later, and I know the Alpenroses -blossomed in July. The Swiss have a great sentiment for this flower, -a sort of rhododendron whose clusters of pink blossoms growing on low -scraggly shrubs color miles of mountain-side at the proper season. But -they have no such loveliness as the dainty little flowerets that grow -down in the grass. The Edelweiss cult, of course, is entirely a matter -of sentiment. The furry, pulpy little plant, stalk, leaves, flowers, -all of the same grayish, greenish white, has no trace of beauty and -indeed does not look like a flower at all. Only its fondness for -growing in dangerous and inaccessible places could make it desirable. -There seems to be plenty of it, too, if you know where to go for it. -During the season the tourist routes are lined with little solemn, -silent children selling edelweiss. The supply never fails. But I may as -well confess right here that though of course we purchased a certain -amount of this article of commerce, we never found a sprig of it -growing. We could doubtless have done so by paying a native to lead us -to a proper place, but there would have been no sentiment in that. We -were always hoping to come upon it accidentally, but we never did. - -We soon decided that it was a waste of time to eat our meals in a -stuffy little dining-room, looking out only at an upward slope of -grass, even though it was adorned with two chamois and a Schützenfest -prize. So we had the deal table and the chairs transferred to the more -private of the lower balconies, the one that did not communicate with -the street; and we found that the Eiger and Mettenberg and the Lower -Glacier, the whole regal glory of our outlook, added a wonderful savor -to our simple repasts,—changed the prosaic process of eating, in fact, -into a sort of Magnificat. For it is true that there are places in this -world which make even a pagan feel religious, and among all the winds -and rains and fields and rivers and beasts and stars which “praise -the Lord,” there are none which entone their hymns in a voice more -inspiringly audible than the mountains which lift their snow-crowned -heads so near to Heaven. - -Is it surprising that the Swiss are a simple and an honest race? It -seems to me it would be surprising if they were anything else. It must -be almost a physical impossibility to lie in the presence of a glacier -or on the edge of a precipice. Before these hoary Titans of mountains -the complexities of our life fall away from us like dust from a shaken -garment. All our artificial distinctions and sophistications become -infinitely unimportant. Perhaps ants feel this way in the presence of -the Pyramids, or flies who light on the buttresses of Cologne Cathedral. - -After all, the Simple Life is not hard to live if you get the right -setting for it. - -We breakfasted, lunched, drank tea and dined on that balcony till the -snow drove us indoors at the end of September. When it rained we pulled -the table back into the shelter of the glass at the north end of the -veranda. When it was cold, we put on overcoats and golf capes. As we -lived with those mountains day by day, and grew to know all their moods -and manners, good and bad, as one knows those of one’s truly intimates, -they became to us, not scenery, but friends and kindred, not anything -external, but a part of our larger selves. - -We watched the snow line creep up at the beginning of the season -and down again at the end. We watched the mountains hide themselves -in black lowering clouds, saw them lit up by flashes of lightning, -heard them roll back the thunder, saw them repent and hang out a -rainbow from the Wetterhorn precipice across the white of the Upper -Glacier and down in front of the Mettenberg, the upper peaks shake off -their bad humor and emerge from the clouds all wet and shiny, rocks -as well as snow, in the happy sunlight. Eiger is the same as ogre, -etymologically, I suppose. Anyhow, it means giant, I have somewhere -read. But when the wind blew fleecy white clouds across his gray flank -and summit, half-hiding, half-revealing, the effect was as alluring as -a chiffon veil on a beautiful woman. Then there was the delicate pink -Alpenglow to hope for about simultaneously with dessert. Sometimes -instead there were eerie green lights among firns and snowfields and -white peaks above the Lower Glacier, wherefore one of them is named -the Grindelwalder Grünhorn. And later, when the dinner things had -been cleared away and the moon came up over the mountain walls of the -valley, our world was too beautiful to be true. It was so exquisite -that it almost _hurt_. It induced silence and a sort of swelling of the -heart and an overpowering desire to be good.... - -[Illustration: _Grindelwald Valley and Wetterhorn_] - -I did not mean to be betrayed into a rhapsody. Permit me to call -attention to the dash of “local color” on our dinner-table furnished by -the cow-bell with which we summoned Suzanne from the kitchen. I have -that cow-bell still among my most valued possessions. It and the bowl -of wild flowers in the center of the table (not to mention the view) -quite redeemed the meagerness of the Frau Secundärlehrer’s table linen -and our consciousness that there were just _exactly_ enough knives, -forks, spoons, cups, saucers, plates and glasses to go around once and -that they had to be washed between courses! If I wanted to ask anyone -to dinner, I would have to send to the village to buy one more of -everything! - -I have now confided to you nearly everything I know about our -housekeeping arrangements, but I have not even mentioned our good cook, -Anna. This is not surprising, for she was the most unobtrusive person -I ever met in my life. I secured her through an Interlaken employment -agency, but she was not at all like the output of an employment agency -in our own glorious land of the free. Her voice was so low and she -was so timid and deprecatory that it was sometimes extremely difficult -to find out what she was talking about. She was so superlatively meek -that she seemed always to be inviting one to ill-treat her. I suppose -it was this characteristic which made Suzanne bully her so at first. -At Nice we had had a cook who kept Suzanne terrorized, drove her out -of the kitchen with a poker and reduced her to daily tears. The joy of -emancipation from that servitude, combined with Anna’s meekness, were -evidently too much for her. This time it was Anna who wept. She came to -me at the end of a fortnight and told me she would have to leave, that -she seemed to be able to please Madame well enough, but that it was -quite impossible to satisfy Suzanne. I told her to think better of it, -reasoned with Suzanne and appealed to her sympathies (she has the best -heart in the world), and the two soon became excellent friends. - -Dear little mild, meek, faithful Anna, I do hope she is prospering! -She was a widow and supported her three little children on the -thirty-five francs a month she got from me. I put it up to forty-five, -unsolicited, from pure sympathy, but I don’t suppose she could get more -than half of that through the winter. She was bilingual,—French and -German,—so it was easy for all of us to communicate with her, and she -had pretty rosy cheeks and soft, good eyes. - -I remember the time I asked her (speaking French) what they called a -bureau (_commode_) in German. “_On l’appelle comme ça_,” she murmured -flutteringly. “_Comme ça?_” I repeated. “But what do they call it?” -“_On l’appelle comme ça_,” she said again more flutteringly than -before. We bandied this back and forth until I thought we had struck -an impasse like that of the famous story where the Englishman asks the -Scotchman what there is in haggis. The Scotchman begins to enumerate, -“There’s leeks intilt,” and the Englishman, not understanding the -word, interrupts, “But what’s ‘_intilt_’?” “I’m telling ye,” says -the Scotchman, “there’s leeks intilt.” “But I want to know what’s -‘_intilt_.’” “If ye’ll only keep quiet ye’ll know what’s intilt. -There’s leeks....” And so it goes on forever. Anna and I would -probably be doing the same until now, her voice growing more frightened -and fluttering each time, had I not lost patience and exclaimed, -“_Comme_ QUOI, _mon Dieu_? Say to me in German, ‘There’s a bureau in -my room.’” By which means I discovered that she meant the same word, -_commode_, was used in German as in French. - -Perhaps this is as good a place as any to tell a little more about -our landlord and his family. The Herr Secundärlehrer, as might be -inferred, taught in the higher grades at the big school-house, with -so many lovely mottoes painted outside, at the edge of the village. -He was evidently proud of his learned calling, for his title was -inscribed on his cards and letterheads and invariably appended to his -signature. But that, of course, is characteristically German. He was -a good-looking man of about thirty, his face a trifle heavy in repose -and just a little weak, but lighting up charmingly when he smiled. -Like most Swiss, he carried himself rather slouchily. I don’t know how -strenuously he may have labored during school hours, but he was nearly -always resting out of them. Not so his wife. She was a teacher in the -primary school, but that was merely an incident in her life. She also -kept the store and cared for her three small children and took charge -of the family housekeeping (with the aid of the little dienst-mädchen), -did washing and sewing, and along in the late twilight would be -standing by a table outside the door of the store (ready for a customer -if one should come) ironing till the last ray of light faded. Or she -and the dienst-mädchen would take hoe and spade and weed the cabbage -patch or get the ground ready for planting turnips. While they did -that, the masculine head of the family would sit on a bench smoking. -They don’t spoil their women in Switzerland. - -That reminds me of the local newspaper we subscribed to. It came three -times a week and once in a while contained an illustrated supplement, -with stories and poems, which were not exciting, but highly moral. -The news part contained, besides local items of occasional interest, -a quaint little summary of what was going on in the world, from the -standpoint of the Grindelwald valley, and delicious editorials on such -burning topics of the day as Love, Shakespeare, or the Sphere of Woman. - -It was from the last that we culled the useful phrase, “Housely Herd.” -I was reading it aloud to the assembled family, translating into -English as I went, “The good God is not pleased,” I read (that editor -was always well posted as to the Almighty’s views and sentiments)—“The -good God is not pleased when women leave the _housely herd_ and force -themselves into business and professions for which He never intended -them.” Now of course I should have translated “_häuslicher Herd_,” -“domestic hearth,” but I honestly thought it was housely herd at the -moment, and the phrase so beautifully expressed the masculine attitude -of this pastoral people toward their women that it ought to have been -true if it wasn’t. We therefore put it into our daily vocabulary, and -the feminine part of the family joyously referred to itself as the -Housely Herd all the rest of the season. - - - - -IV - - -The Younger Babe made friends with an Italian workman engaged in the -construction of a châlet half a mile up the road and was presented by -him with a piece of wall paper about a foot square. He bore it home -in triumph and asked me to paste it up on the wall above his bed. The -comfort he took in that reminder of what he regarded as civilization -was really touching. He said he didn’t mind the house so much now that -it had _some_ wall paper in it. - -Frater said afterwards that the Châlet Edelweiss must have been -conducted as a young ladies’ boarding school previous to the arrival -of himself and Antonio. This is a mistake on his part, but it is -undoubtedly true that we led a much more quiet and decorous life before -that invasion of Goth and Vandal. I am sure that the Secundärlehrer -and his Frau held a much higher opinion of us at that time than they -did later. They had never had the advantage of living in an American -college town and were not educated up to “rough-house” nor to the -unholy noises which were liable to issue from the Châlet at any hour of -the day or night and which led Belle Soeur to christen it our private -lunatic asylum. - -It is rather curious, as we were none of us haters of our kind, that in -the four months we spent in Grindelwald we never exchanged a word with -any of the local English colony, which is fairly numerous. Doubtless -most of the people who thronged the English chapel of a Sunday were -transients, but a good many of the hotel people were there for the -season, and there were quite a number of English families keeping -house like ourselves in châlets, though mostly on the other side of -the village. Somehow we seemed to be sufficient unto ourselves. Our -mountains gave us all the outside company we wanted, and if ever we did -pine for human intercourse there was much more “local color” in talking -with Swiss peasants. - -Our wildest form of diversion before the transatlantic contingent -joined us was a picnic. Mostly it was combined with a tramp too long -to be taken comfortably in half a day, but the Fourth of July picnic -was celebrated very near the house so that the Younger Babe and Suzanne -could accompany us. We chose a charming level green spot beside a -babbling Alpine brook which the small boys nearly froze their feet -wading. It was shaded by a fine big tree under whose branches we got -an altogether glorious view of the Wetterhorn and Upper Glacier. The -Fourth-of-Julyness was represented by some diminutive American flags -we had purchased at a photograph shop in the village and six of those -engines of war euphoniously yclept “nigger-chasers,” which we bought -(the entire stock) at the druggist’s. This was the nearest we could -come to fire-crackers. One was fired when we got up in the morning, a -second after breakfast, one was reserved for sunset, one went off at -high noon, and the remaining two immediately preceded and followed the -ceremony of lunch. - -Among our more distant picnics there stand out in my memory the climb -to the Grosse Scheidegg and our two trips to the Männlichen. - -The first Männlichen trip was spoiled by the weather. It is often -impossible to tell on a cloudy morning whether the day will prove -good or bad. This time we guessed wrong. Not having as yet acquired -the climbing habit, we took the train to the Kleine Scheidegg and the -footpath from there to the Männlichen. Instead of the early clouds -blowing away, as we thought they would, they closed in densely, so that -we found ourselves shivering in a thick fog, unable to see twenty feet -before our noses. Still hoping the weather might change for the better, -we made our way along the path, which was fortunately a perfectly plain -and unmistakable one. The path in places ran between snow banks as -high as our heads, and except these banks we saw no scenery. We sat -down on a damp stone and ate our lunch, which was curiously cheerless. -The weather grew worse and worse. Finally, just as it was beginning to -rain hard, there loomed out of the mist ahead of us the Männlichen Inn, -where we were more than glad to find shelter, hot milk and tea, and a -fire. - -The rain came down in torrents for several hours. By the time it let -up, it was too late to catch the afternoon train at Scheidegg. Of -course the sensible thing to do would have been to make up our minds to -spend the night at the Männlichen Inn. But we had made no provisions -for staying away over-night and knew that Suzanne and Anna would be -very much alarmed at our failure to return. - -Besides, the prospect of passing the rest of the afternoon and evening -at that viewless inn, with nothing to read and nothing to do, was -nowise alluring. So when it stopped raining and the clouds rolled down -the mountain-side an eighth of a mile or so, we announced our intention -of taking the footpath down to Grindelwald. - -The waitress who pointed out the beginning of it to us plainly thought -we were crazy, and perhaps we were. For two women and a small boy to -start out at four o’clock in the afternoon to walk seven miles down a -rain-soaked mountain-side, hunting for a path which for the first few -miles would be a rude cow track, no different from countless others -which would cross it or branch off from it, knowing that if they got -lost or night overtook them they would find no human habitation to -shelter them—well, it didn’t sound sensible! But the gods who protect -the imprudent were with us. - -We started down light-heartedly enough, glad to be on the move again, -scrambling over rocks, swinging across the grassy places as fast as the -clinging mud would let us, counteracting the chill of advancing evening -by the strenuousness of the exercise we were taking. Once we had the -good luck to meet a herd of cows from whose guardians we got a new set -of directions. And again, just at a place where we were badly puzzled, -we saw a lad toiling upward with an empty milk can on his back, whom we -hailed and questioned. - -Of course this sort of questioning is not an exact science. It must be -remembered that our German was far from fluent, and that those people -talked a local dialect very considerably different from the language -of Goethe and Schiller, that they belonged to the dull, inarticulate -section of the population and were not over-fond of foreigners. -Moreover, everything in Switzerland has a name of its own, and the -topographical directions of a peasant bristle always with unfamiliar -proper names, which one strains one’s ear to catch, wildly guessing -whether they refer to a forest, a pasturage or a group of châlets. All -distances are given in time, which is vague at best, and may differ -radically as between a Swiss cowherd in training and two American women -with a small boy. - -An unusually clear-spoken and intelligent native might discourse as -follows: “In a quarter of an hour you will be at Hinter der Egg. Do not -turn off to the right at Eggboden. Cross the Gundelgraben and continue -down for an hour through the Raufte. When you reach Geyscheur you will -see two paths. You may take either. Both lead to Grund. You are two and -a half hours from Grindelwald.” Usually, it is much more involved. And -remember that you are hearing everyone of those blessed names for the -first time. Two turn out to be cheese huts, one a stream, one a meadow, -one a group of three or four dwelling-houses, and the last the bottom -of the slope where the Lütschine runs through. But you don’t learn that -from the man who is giving you directions. - -I never knew such a long seven miles. It seemed as if Grindelwald -receded as fast as we advanced. We tore along the last part of the -time, each taking a hand of the Babe, almost running, to keep the night -from catching us on the mountain-side. It was nearly dark before we got -home, but as the last part of our way was over the familiar highroad, -it did not matter. The Châlet Edelweiss looked like a terrestrial -paradise, and never was there a sensation more luxurious than shedding -our wet, muddy clothes in favor of peignoirs and putting our tired feet -into bedroom slippers, unless it was furnished by the good hot dinner -that followed. - -The other Männlichen trip was vastly different. The day was clear as -a bell—radiant, perfect. We walked down to the Grund station and took -the train as far as Alpiglen only, about half way to the Scheidegg. -You see we were learning to climb by then. We took a lovely (though -sometimes unfindable) cross-slanting path from there to the Männlichen, -and all the way kept opening up more and more glorious vistas. -Starting with a backward look into the Grindelwald Valley and at our -own Wetterhorn and Eiger, we uncovered the Mönch first and then the -Jungfrau, with her beautiful shining sub-peaks, the Silberhorn and -Schneehorn, and finally, when we got to the top of the ridge, there -was that surprising hole in the ground, the Lauterbrunnen Valley, with -all its waterfalls tumbling down the rock walls of the opposite side. -Beyond were more snow mountains and to the westward Lake Thun and -Lake Brienz, Interlaken and more snow mountains. I do truly think the -view from the Männlichen is the finest in Switzerland, if not in the -whole world. The view from the Gornergrat is a wilderness of glaciers, -utterly magnificent, but lacking in variety. The view from the Rigi -is a panorama of distant objects and lacks the stupendous foreground -supplied for the Männlichen by that trio of colossi, Eiger, Mönch and -Jungfrau. - -Our sandwiches and cake were a feast of the gods that day, with heaven -and earth spread out above, below and all around us—green in the -valley, white on the mountains, blue overhead. We came home by the path -we had followed so sloppily and doubtfully that other day and found it -perfectly plain, much shorter and wonderfully transformed as to looks. -I remember that we carried home armloads of Alpenroses gathered on the -higher slopes. - -Of our tramp to the Grosse Scheidegg, the most striking feature was the -attack of “mountain sickness” Belle Soeur had just before reaching the -summit. It is an unpleasant sort of thing consisting of palpitation of -the heart, faintness, nausea, and turning a greenish white. The proper -treatment is to lie down till it passes off and take some cognac. We -hadn’t any cognac along that day, so poor Belle Soeur could only lie -down and wait till it got ready to go away. The Scheidegg is only 6400 -feet high. She never felt it again at any such level as that, but -encountered it on the Gries Pass at about 8000 feet and going over the -Strahlegg at somewhere near 10,000. We always made a practice after -the first time of carrying a small cognac flask along whenever we were -making an ascent. - -The view from the Scheidegg is interesting, but not at all in the same -class as the Männlichen outlook. - -We came home by way of the Grindel Alp pastures and encountered great -herds of cattle, and wondered whether it was our duty to be afraid of -them, but decided it wasn’t. We lost our path and tried to cut across -the meadows without one. It looked very easy. We could see the roof of -our own house plainly several miles distant, but the streams we had to -cross, which ran often through deep ravines, made it hard and sometimes -a little risky. There was one beautiful spot on a crag overhanging a -stream where we fully intended to return some day to picnic, but we -never could find it again! - -That was the day we learned the wonderfully resting effect on tired and -swollen feet of bathing them in the ice-cold water of a mountain stream. - -In those early days, before the Transatlantics arrived, the Chronicler -used to put in several hours a day in the polishing of her new novel, -the Elder Babe used to have lessons, Belle Soeur had an attack of -sewing and turned out wonderful confections for her wardrobe, and we -all improved our minds with Swiss history. I say “improved our minds” -advisedly, for it certainly did not amuse us. Why is it that, with -all the dramatic material at hand, some one doesn’t write a history -of Switzerland that the ordinary reader can peruse without going to -sleep? Something must be allowed of course for the fact that we were -not living in the history-hallowed part of Switzerland. Nothing ever -happened in the Grindelwald Valley except a battle in 1191, between the -Duke of Zaeringen and some recalcitrant nobles who did not like his -populistic tendencies. The Duke won the battle and straightway founded -Berne and endowed its burghers with all sorts of privileges, the more -to annoy the nobles. Or perhaps his motives were really high and -altruistic and he would have been glad if he could have foreseen that -the Bernese burghers would eventually down nobles and sovereign too. -But I really don’t think that we were so lacking in imagination that -we could not have been interested in the doings of the Eidgenossen in -the Forest Cantons, over the Brünig to the eastward, only a few miles -after all, if the histories, French and English alike, had not been so -deadly dull. - -It is not only the histories either. There is something very -unsatisfactory about _all_ the literature concerning Switzerland. Much -of it is painstakingly constructed out of guide-books like Rollo’s -Adventures. Some of the things that are best as literature were written -by men who got their impressions at second hand. Schiller wrote Tell -and Scott wrote Anne of Geierstein without ever having set foot on -Swiss soil. The Swissness of both reminds one of Dr. Johnson’s remark -about women’s writing poetry and dogs walking on their hind legs. It is -not to be expected that they should do it _well_, but the surprising -thing is that they should be able to do it at all! - -Now Byron did live up at Wengern Alp just over the Kleine Scheidegg -while he was writing Manfred, and the other day I read it over, -anticipating much. Time was when I thought Manfred one of the greatest -dramatic poems ever written. It gave me all sort of thrills and creeps. -But this rereading was a grievous disappointment. There are a few fine -lines, but most of the descriptions are cheap, tawdry and conventional, -fit accompaniments to a third-rate melodramatic attempt at clothing in -false sentiment a theme essentially rotten. - -Hyperion is another old-time favorite that I have just reread with -a chill of disappointment. The dear poet was obviously bored by a -solitary tramp he took to the Grimsel. He got the blues in Interlaken -when it rained (which was not surprising), he saw the Jungfrau from -the hotel piazza, took a drive to the Lauterbrunnen Valley, and for -the rest had no eyes for anything except that uninteresting girl, Mary -Ashburton. The Swiss color of it all is distinctly thin. - -The tales of high climbing are often thrilling as adventures, but are -usually written by people who don’t know how to write. And one who -has not been bitten by the Alpinist mania can not help feeling that -so much daring and energy might have been better expended than in -breaking records and necks. It is really a species of insanity, this -high-climbing passion. The world and its standards must be curiously -out of focus to its victims. They don’t even pay any attention to -scenery. Much of their climbing is done in the dark (between two A. -M. and day-break) and they are always too pressed for time to stop to -look at a view, their brief rests being scientifically calculated to -restore their exhausted mind and muscles. Tyndall’s books are extremely -satisfactory in their way. He was an enthusiastic climber, without -being a crank on the subject, had a scientific object in his trips and -a considerable literary gift in describing them. - -In general, I suppose it is true that where nature is so overpoweringly -magnificent, art is dwarfed. Those who deeply feel the sublimity of it -all hold their peace, and it is only the superficial who go home and -slop over in printed twaddle. Of whose number the present Chronicler, -thus self-confessedly, is one. - - - - -V - - -On the epoch-making twenty-first day of July, Frater and Antonio -tramped into our lives with knapsacks on their backs. We were not -expecting them till the next day. Frater had written from somewhere -up the Rhine that they would strike us about the 22nd. In a small -parenthesis he had added that they _might_ arrive by the 21st, but -Frater’s hand-writing, being of the kind sacred to genius, I had not -read this part. They had come up on the train from Interlaken, but of -course we had not met them at the station, and no one could tell them -where we lived. They wandered out the highroad to the Upper Glacier, -and as it appeared quite evident we did not live on the ice-fall or -the Wetterhorn cliffs, they turned back again. Some one told them our -châlet was on the mountain-side, and they started up a path, but met a -peasant of whom they inquired again. This individual, after stroking -his chin in silent rumination for some time, suddenly shot out his -forefinger in the direction of the Châlet Edelweiss and said “Dort!” -with such convincing emphasis that they started down again across the -fields. Thus it happened that our first glimpse of them was from a most -unexpected direction, dropping out of the clouds as it were, or, to be -accurate, climbing over one of the rare fences behind and above us. We -were not sure of their identity at first, but the long legs and Cornell -sweaters looked familiar, and Belle Soeur on the balcony ventured to -wave a greeting which was enthusiastically returned. - -We had been just about sitting down to tea, and I remember the singular -inadequacy of the biscuit supply. Retiring to the kitchen I hastily -sent off Anna to the village for more of everything for dinner, and -it was well that I did so. I had been catering for a family of women -and children so long that it took some days to get adjusted to the new -circumstances, and we were perpetually running up against unexpected -vacuums. Anna and Suzanne were as much distressed over the increased -expenditures as if they had been personally footing the bills and -often cut us short on things that we really had plenty of just from -their instinct of thriftiness. - -We spent the four intervening days before the Mother’s arrival in -showing the boys the immediate neighborhood of Grindelwald. They were -still a little quiet and shy, especially Antonio, and the process of -transforming the Young Ladies’ Boarding School into the Private Lunatic -Asylum was not yet in visible operation. - -The Mother had been entirely explicit as to the time of _her_ arrival, -and we walked down to Interlaken to meet her—Belle Soeur, Frater, -Antonio, the Elder Babe and I. It was fourteen miles, and although it -was down grade on a fine highroad, as we had to arrive at noon, we made -an early start. Even so, we had to move at so lively a pace that the -poor Babe with his short legs was kept on a trot. The Babe, however, -is game, and he had no notion in the world of letting his grandmother -arrive, unmet by him. - -We lined up on the pier, dusty and thirsty, a bare five minutes ahead -of the Lake Brienz steamer——. There it comes, puffing along, tourists -thronging the decks! Where is she? Has she missed connections after -all? If we have come all this way, and she isn’t there—Ah! But she _is_ -there! - -It is Antonio who has spied her. Wildly waving their hats, he and -Frater lift up the strains of the Aguinaldo chorus: - - “Well, am I the boss or am I the show? - Am I the Governor General or a ho-o-bo? - Well, I’d like to know - Who’s arunning this show! - Is it me or Emilio Aguinaldo?” - -It was the first time Belle Soeur and I had heard this beautiful ditty, -as we had been out of the country for a year or more. I think it must -have been the first time the people on the wharf and steamer had heard -it, too, for they looked at the stalwart performers in some surprise. -But the Mother, who had spent the previous winter in Ithaca and helped -the boys graduate the month before, was thoroughly accustomed to it and -would doubtless have had her feelings hurt if she had been greeted in -any other way. - -It was at this point that Frater committed the crime of _lèse majesté_, -infanticide and arson all rolled into one. As the little steamer came -up near the wharf he stepped across the foot or so of intervening water -onto the lower deck with the sinful intention of greeting his mother -two minutes sooner and carrying her satchel ashore. As his foot touched -the deck, he was seized by two employees of the steamer in a state of -excitement bordering on apoplexy. It was against the rules—against -_all_ the rules! No one was allowed on the steamer until all the -passengers had come ashore by the gang-plank. “Oh, all right,” said -Frater good-naturedly, “I’ll go back on the wharf if it worries you,” -and he started to step back. At that they became still more excited -and held him tighter than ever. That also was against the rules. No -one could go ashore except over the gang-plank. Also nobody could go -ashore without giving up his ticket. Frater had no ticket, of course. -What were they going to do about it? They did not know. They would -see. Such an emergency had never occurred before and there were no -precedents. He was to wait till all the passengers had gone off, and -then they would decide. All this was said in wild and very imperfectly -comprehended German. There was no one around who spoke either French -or English. Frater had joined the Mother, who waited with him for the -passengers to go ashore, in some perturbation of spirit as to what -was to be done to her son. Of course _nothing_ was done. They walked -ashore after the others. But the double line of uniformed employees -through whom they passed were still barely able to repress their -excitement, and their lowering brows would have struck terror to more -timorous hearts. It was really as though some form of sacrilege had -been committed, which they had decided to overlook in the interests of -international comity. This was the only time we ever ran up against any -of the Powers that Be in our wanderings, which, everything considered, -was, I think, doing uncommonly well. - -Frater and the Mother being safely restored to us, the late exciting -incident became one thing more to laugh about, and it was a very merry -party who sat down to eat a picnic lunch in a secluded spot beside -the Aar, and washed it down, subsequently, with Munich beer on draft -at a near-by out-door restaurant, and caught the Grindelwald train, -and were met at the station by Suzanne and the Younger Babe, running -down the road hand in hand, a trifle late and greatly out of breath. -The Mother, her baggage, and the Babes were piled into the Red-headed -Man’s carriage, and the rest of us marched behind singing the Aguinaldo -chorus. You see we were already beginning to thaw out. The Chronicler, -no longer Senior Officer Present, felt that her extreme dignity could -now be safely relaxed. Frater never _was very_ shy, and Antonio was -getting acquainted. - -I think, at the risk of being considered a gossip, I shall have to -tell how those two young men got to us, because it was so thoroughly -characteristic. They hadn’t either of them the money to spend on a -European trip and had intended going to work at their respective -professions of electrical and mechanical engineering as soon as they -left college: but what I had written of our location in Switzerland, -the Mother’s intention of spending the summer with us, and my entirely -sincere, but also entirely unexpecting suggestion that they should -“come along too” set them to thinking and planning. They went down to -New York, shipped on a cattle steamer and worked their way to Antwerp, -walked across Belgium, came up the Rhine by boat (third class) and -across by rail, also third class, from Basel. It had taken them about a -month from New York, and they had seen a great many interesting things -and places and had spent, as I remember, in the neighborhood of twenty -dollars apiece! - - - - -VI - - -The next week was devoted to introducing the Mother to her new -surroundings. Our trips were limited by her tendency to get asthma when -climbing and her inability to go anywhere near the edge of a precipice. -Even when the path was several feet wide, as on the way to the Bäregg, -the consciousness of a down-drop made her “dizzy in the knees.” But -there were plenty of beautiful walks to take within these limits. And -her enthusiasm over the life and the land would have inspired the -rest of us if we had not been already profoundly convinced of the -blessedness of our lot. - -We did one thing during this interval which I don’t doubt would brand -us as proper inmates for a lunatic asylum in the esteem of all the good -respectable conventional people in the world. We spent a night on the -Männlichen rolled up in steamer rugs watching the moon! Frater proposed -it first to me. He and I have a fondness for the Voices of the Night -and have roughed it enough together to know we can sleep on the ground -now and then without catching cold or feeling cross next morning. Belle -Soeur and Antonio decided that they wanted to come too, and the noble -spirit in which they bore the hardships of the occasion proved that -they were qualified for admission to the Inner Circle. - -We left in the afternoon, a little later than we should have done, -for we were rather heavily loaded down with jackets and rugs and our -prospective supper, and we were going all the way on foot this time by -the direct Männlichen path, which we had only come down before, and it -takes longer to go up than to come down! However, by pressing our steps -to a slightly uncomfortable degree, we got to the summit _just_ in time -for sunset. - -The scene of the next few minutes before the blood red had faded from -the west, is one of the pictures indelibly burned into my memory. We -stood there silently drinking it in, the boys for the first time, Belle -Soeur and I loving it the more for having known it before. For a while -we watched the details blurring under the on-stealing twilight. Then -hunger asserted itself, and we found a place below the summit, somewhat -sheltered from the biting winds, where we perched ourselves on a ridge -like crows and did ample justice to the contents of the paper parcels -that the boys drew from their knapsacks. - -Then it occurred to us that we had better use the small remaining -aftermath of daylight to find some spots sheltered from the wind and -level enough to sleep on. It seems absurd to say that on the whole -mountain-side there was no place level enough to lie down on without -slipping off. Yet it was very nearly true. The summit was swept by a -blast of icy wind. The snow-drifts had disappeared since we were there -a month before, but it was still very cold after the warming sun had -retired for the night. On the Lauterbrunnen side there was just plain -precipice, on the Grindelwald side a very steep descent divided between -stones and grass. After much searching we established ourselves on a -little shelf, barely wide enough for a person to lie on and sloping -down just enough for one to feel as if one was about to roll off. -There was nothing to hold on to, so we dug our feet into the ground -in a more or less futile attempt to secure what Frater described as a -“toe-grip.” There was a low growth of thistles in our neighborhood, -too, which drove their prickles through our steamer rugs in a rather -unpleasant fashion. - -Soon the weather began to behave badly. Great banks of clouds came -up out of the depths and covered the region where the moon was due -to rise. The stars twinkled brightly overhead, but, barring a sudden -change in cloud conditions, it was evident that no moon would be -visible before the middle of the night. We hoped against hope so long -as we could, keeping up a desultory talk and a little soft-pedal -singing. Then each rolled up in his or her steamer rug, sought six feet -of shelf room, and—eventually—fell asleep. - -I was awakened by a very penetrating chill in the marrow of my spinal -column, and opening my eyes, saw that there was a dim pale radiance -over the universe that had been lacking when I went to sleep. I spoke -very low. Frater answered. We crawled out of our rugs and clambered up -to the Männlichen summit. - -I wonder if human eyes ever rested on a scene of more eerie -loveliness? The moon struggled through and upward at last into the -open sky, and the clouds broke away enough so that great masses of -the Eiger-Mönch-Jungfrau group came into sight, looking even more -stupendously huge from being partly hidden. The valleys seemed -bottomless abysses—their floors four thousand feet below being utterly -lost in blackness. And on the other side of the Lauterbrunnen Valley -the billowy snow peaks, quite free from clouds, rolled away, all silver -in the moonlight. - -What a scene for some stupendous cosmic drama with spirits of the earth -and air for actors! How did we dare to intrude on their vigils—mere -prying interlopers that we were? - -Every once in a while we had to stamp around violently and swing our -arms to get warm. Otherwise we sat quite still and almost silent, -feeling the way one ought to feel in church, but mostly doesn’t. - -At last the clouds caught up with the moon and hid it, and we stumbled -sleepily down and found our rugs and sections of ledge again. - -Just before sunrise it was Antonio who was awake and ready to accompany -me to the summit. The others were sleeping the sleep of the just and -declined to be aroused. It was wonderfully beautiful again—the rebirth -of the hidden world, the mountains thrusting up their mighty shoulders -above the foamy cloud-sea that filled the valleys into the faint pink -glow which was gone almost as soon as seen. As soon as the glamour -of the sunrise had faded we knew that we were ravenously hungry, and -shaking the sleepers into a similar conviction, we started for the -Männlichen Inn and hot coffee and rolls and honey. - -I do not know where the people at the Inn supposed we had dropped from -at that hour. No questions were asked and no information volunteered. -The breakfast was excellent and we set out for home much refreshed. -Little by little, as we walked, our cramped muscles limbered and our -chilled blood warmed—warmed too much, in fact, before we reached the -Châlet at midday with those ton-a-piece steamer rugs over our shoulders. - -[Illustration: _Mönch and Jungfrau from the Männlichen_] - -The moon had not done all we had expected of it. But we felt it was -proved that the quartette was of the “right stuff” and could safely -venture on a fortnight’s pedestrian trip. - - - - -VII - - -The morning we started out on our first memorable pedestrian tour, the -Mother and the Elder Babe accompanied us to where the Grosse Scheidegg -path turns off from the highroad, Suzanne, Anna and the Younger Babe -having previously waved us out of sight from the balcony of the Châlet. - -I felt some qualms of prospective homesickness as I left them and a -twinge of conscience lest one of the Babes might get sick or the Mother -have trouble with the housekeeping, but by the time we had dropped over -on the other side of the Scheidegg ridge and could no longer see the -red roof of our Châlet, I had lost my misgivings and began to enjoy my -vacation. I had not felt so completely free from the harness for Heaven -knows how long, and as I walked along I could feel the years sliding -off of me and hear them thud as they struck the ground. I think I must -have halted somewhere about the sixteen-year-old point. That’s the way -I felt, at least. And it is an interesting fact that I was addressed -uniformly as Fräulein or Mademoiselle by strangers all the rest of the -season. The short skirt may have had something to do with it, but the -Swiss are entirely used to even elderly ladies in short dresses. - -Perhaps our outfit may be of some interest. My own skirt and jacket -were of corduroy, and I don’t think the material could be improved -upon. Nothing else will stand so much sun and rain and dust and mud -and still look decent. With this, downward, gaiters of the same -and heavy-soled hob-nailed boots. Upward, a dark linen shirt waist -and a feather-weight Swiss straw hat, with a brim broad enough to -protect from the sun. One should have the trimmings of one’s hat of a -warranted-fast color. I did not and suffered accordingly. The hat I -started out with was trimmed with a garland of red poppies, and the -effect of the first heavy rain was fearful and wonderful to behold. The -next was trimmed with ribbon and suffered almost as badly. The third -was adorned with a Scotch plaid that really rose superior to weather. - -The boys made no special preparation for the trip except to have the -soles of their boots well studded with nails and to invest each in a -soft felt Swiss hat, warranted to stand any weather, and to stick fast -in any wind. Each of us had strapped over the shoulders a light canvas -_Rückensack_, containing the absolutely essential (reduced to the last -irreducible minimum) for a week. We had planned to have clean clothes -meet us by mail at Zermatt at the end of that time. The Swiss mailing -arrangements are ideal, and one can send a good-sized hamper anywhere -for a few cents. In the same manner we got rid of our soiled clothes by -mailing them home. Belle Soeur and I carried alpenstocks, having found -them a real help in climbing steep paths and even more so in coming -down. The boys despised them as tourist-like and amateurish and would -have nothing to do with them. When we took off our jackets we put them -through the straps across our shoulders so that our hands (barring the -friendly alpenstocks) were always free. We didn’t bother with umbrellas -or raincoats, none of us being liable to colds. - -We ate our luncheon soon after we dropped over the Scheidegg into the -Rosenlaui Valley. The character of the landscape had changed already. -We sat on a slope adorned by a group of Christmas trees and a highly -decorative herd of cattle and saw our old friend the Wetterhorn in an -entirely unfamiliar shape and looked with interest at the queer rock -wings of the Engelhörner. - -Having consumed our last reminder of Home and Mother, we pushed on, -presently finding ourselves racing for the Rosenlaui hotel against -up-piling clouds that obviously held rain. The clouds beat, but we got -there in time to save ourselves from an absolute drenching and sat in -a summer-house for some time, drinking a form of fizzy water which had -evidently (from its price) been diluted with liquid gold. - -If a baptism of fire is the critical moment in the life of a young -soldier, I take it that the baptism of rain is the touchstone for the -inexperienced pedestrian. If you preserve the Smile-that-won’t-come-off -when your shoes are soaked through and the water goes chunk-chunk -inside of them, and the mud clings to the outside, and the rain -trickles down your neck—inside the collar, and your wet skirts flap -about your ankles (if you’re a man you’re spared _that_), and the thick -clouds shut out all the mountains you came to see,—why then you’ve won -your spurs. - -When the serious part of the rain was over and we felt that we could -afford no more gold-flavored Apollinaris and had no other excuse for -lingering, we continued down that water-logged valley. Frater and I -kept up our spirits by singing everything we knew, from Suwannee River -to Anheuser Busch, but it really wasn’t fair, because Antonio has a -musical ear and must have suffered a lot. We saw some waterfalls, but -were too wet ourselves to be much cheered by them. - -We did get some amusement, though, out of a solitary French pedestrian -who asked us if we had encountered any rain. The question was so -absurdly superfluous in view of the rain-soaked condition of ourselves -and the whole world, that we made him repeat it several times before -we gave him a grave and final affirmative. I think he felt lonely and -thought he would like to join our party, but we choked off his little -attempts at conversation and shook him without compunction. One has to -draw the line _some_where, and we drew it at making acquaintances with -any one except the native peasants, and _they_ usually drew the line on -_us_! - -Emerging into the Meiringen Valley into which the Rosenlaui opens, we -quickly decided against Meiringen as too large and sophisticated a -place to be interesting, and, moreover, several miles out of our way. -There was a village almost straight in front of us which rejoiced in -two names, Innertkirchen and Imhof. This was unfortunate, as whatever -native we asked the road of always seemed to know it only by the other -name. It proved an elusive place. We took the wrong turn several times, -and it was beginning to get dark, and it was a long time since lunch, -and this was our first night as tramps. - -We were not made happier by catching up with the principal inn at last -and finding it full. The other one, on the extreme edge of the village, -seemed hardly more promising at first, for the landlady said she -had just two rooms left, one with one bed and the other with three. -However, a little persuasion reminded her that there was another little -single room in the third story, if one of the young gentlemen didn’t -mind. We were not disposed to be critical. They matched pennies for it, -and Antonio was relegated to the loft. - -This inn, with the all-but-universal name of Alpenrose, proved a good -specimen of the plain, clean, honest and inexpensive Swiss type. We -encountered for the first time a system of two-priced _table d’hôte_, -of which we were given our choice, the difference being not in the -quality of the food, but in the number of courses. Thus: Will you have -soup and one kind of meat with vegetables, followed by fruit, at one -franc fifty, or soup, two kinds of meat with vegetables, and salad -before the fruit, at two fifty? We chose the cheaper and had plenty, in -spite of our fine appetites. Belle Soeur and I were also indulging in -one-franc-fifty lodgings for the first time. The boys knew all about -them from their experience between Antwerp and Grindelwald. - -The dining-room had various Schützenfest prizes hung up around the -walls, and we had our ideas of these functions broadened and our -appreciation of our own Herr Secundärlehrer’s _first_ prize achievement -quickened, when we found that one was labeled the fifty-seventh and -another the _eighty-first_ prize! - -When we emerged on the dusky balcony after dinner, two mysterious -figures were sitting there whom we took to be nuns in some form of -religious habit. This theory was shaken when we observed a lighted -pipe in the mouth of one, and closer scrutiny developed a moustache on -the upper lip of the other. We finally learned from the hotel register -that they were German students on a pedestrian trip, the nun-like -effect being given by voluminous cloaks with peaked hoods drawn over -their heads. They must have been joyous things to carry on a walking -trip—worse than the steamer rugs we dragged up the Männlichen! - -To our surprise, as soon as it was dark, bonfires began to break -forth from surrounding mountain-tops. We asked if this illumination -was the regular thing in the Meiringen Valley and learned that the -first of August is the Swiss form of Fourth of July and that they -were celebrating the oath of the Eidgenossen on the heights of Rütli. -They were doing the same thing in Grindelwald and indeed all over the -republic. - -We wandered into the village to see if any other form of celebration -was going on, but it was all as quiet as a Presbyterian Sunday. The -only noisy thing we could find was the “Infant Aar” brawling foamily -down under a covered wooden bridge. We hung over its parapets for -some time, listening to the racket it made and watching the blazing -fires along the mountain-tops, while Belle Soeur and I tried to impart -such knowledge as we had been able to gather concerning the worthy -representatives of the Forest Cantons, Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden, -who bound themselves by oath somewhere back in the twelve hundreds, to -drive out the Austrians and make their country free. Frater and Antonio -did not mind being _told_, in small doses, but after a brief glance -at our improving assortment of Swiss histories, they had politely and -firmly declined to _read_ them. - - - - -VIII - - -Our second day’s tramp was perhaps the severest test we met of temper -and endurance. We had purposely planned for an easy day—about fourteen -miles by excellent highroad (a diligence route) to the Grimsel Hospice. -We had four thousand feet to climb, but distributed over fourteen miles -of carefully graded road, this was not very terrifying. It was a test -only because we had not yet shaken down into the habit of continuous -tramping. At Grindelwald, after an all-day’s walk, we always rested the -next day. So we got up feeling loggy and lazy, muscles still tired and -feet a bit sore. And the situation was made worse by the weather. We -had a series of showers to contend against with clouds between whiles. - -The rain is the worst thing about Switzerland. Of course if there -was not so much of it, the valleys and lower slopes would not be so -beautifully green. And sometimes there are several weeks of unbroken -sunshine when one feels promoted to Heaven ahead of time. But, on the -other hand, one has sometimes a straight fortnight of rain, unspeakably -depressing, roads afloat with mud and all the mountains shut out from -view. Even the on-and-off showers are trying and apt to trail a skyful -of clouds before and after them. - -On leaving Imhof we invested in bread, cheese, and chocolate for -luncheon (the only articles of food the village store afforded) and -started lazily up the Hasli valley. Everybody passed us, but we didn’t -care. We were not making records and had plenty of time. It is a narrow -valley, pretty rather than imposing, with the Infant Aar running -down the bottom of it and the road occupying a ledge just above. -Baedeker calls it the Infant Aar. It is so seldom that matter-of-fact -condenser of useful information indulges in descriptive epithets that -his occasional poetic flights always filled us with joy, and none of -us, I am sure, will ever think of the tempestuous mountain torrent we -followed all that day upwards towards its cradle, except as the Infant -Aar. - -We took refuge during one shower under a ledge of rock and were -lucky enough to strike a roadside refreshment house for another, -where we regaled ourselves with hot milk—a surprisingly restful -and thirst-quenching beverage when one is “on the road,” and, in -Switzerland, almost invariably good. - -We discovered a lovely bosky spot for our luncheon, where the -valley floor spread out a bit and the Infant split itself into -streamlets, forming little wooded, ferny, rocky islets. A profusion of -huckleberries were growing in this sequestered region, and we found -they made an excellent dessert (though somewhat soured by the rain) -after our dry and not too substantial luncheon. - -It was here that we lost Antonio. He wandered off with his camera -while we were resting after luncheon and did not come back. We called -him and hunted for him till Frater said he must have gone on ahead -and would doubtless be waiting for us at the next turn of the road. -He knew Antonio better than the rest of us did, and claimed that this -would be a highly characteristic procedure—that it would never occur -to him we did not know where he was. So we went on with rather forced -cheerfulness. I confess to feeling uneasy. The Aar was a lusty and -distinctly rapid Infant, and if, in jumping across to one of those -islets to take a picture, he had lost his footing?——Frater jeered at my -forebodings and brazenly took a photograph of our late picnic grounds, -labeling it “last place where Antonio was seen alive” and saying I -could send it to his mother. But Antonio was not at the first turn of -the road nor the next, nor the next, and we sat down to take counsel. - -We were engaged in a mournfully jocular manner in composing a letter to -his family to announce his mysterious disappearance, when we heard a -delightfully unghostlike halloa from the road behind us, and presently -the strayed lamb came into sight. He had actually fallen asleep among -the huckleberry bushes which had concealed him from our view, and had -not heard us call him, but having found the note we left among the -cheese rinds (we always left notes for each other when separated) he -had started along at a rapid gait to overtake us—and he would never -have _dreamed_ of such a thing as going ahead without telling us.... -It’s all well that ends well, and the reunited family proceeded happily. - -The Handegg Falls were the chief incident of the afternoon. A person -familiar with Niagara and Yosemite is not going to burst his heart with -rapture over any of the Swiss waterfalls. Some are beautiful, some are -wild, but all are on a small scale. - -The Handegg, though, is among the most satisfactory. The Infant Aar -furnishes a respectable volume of water and takes a plunge here of two -hundred and forty feet. Moreover, there is an admirable place to view -it from, an overhanging ledge on a level with the top of the falls. And -the rainbow in the spray is charming. - -Along about sunset, after we had risen above timber line, we came -upon a tiny road-house kept by an old man and his daughter. Here, on -a little table just outside the door we decided to take our supper -of what the house afforded—hot milk, bread and soft-boiled eggs. We -absorbed large quantities of this simple but nourishing fare, moved -our chairs inside when the rain began, and tried to persuade our -hosts to put us up for the night. They had absolutely no sleeping -accommodations, however, except for themselves, so perforce, when -the rain let up, we continued along the chilly, desolate and rapidly -darkening road to the Grimsel Hospice. - -That is surely one of the barrenest spots on God’s earth. There is -a bowl-shaped hollow full of stones. There is a lake at the bottom, -when we first saw it, inky black. There is a one-story building whose -stone walls, some three feet thick, were built to withstand winter -storms. This used to be a hospice kept for travelers by monks like the -famous one of St. Bernard, but now it its a hotel run for profit and -patronized by Alpinists and passing tourists. The snow peaks rise up -all around the bowl, and Finsteraarhorn, the highest mountain of the -Oberland, dwarfed from Grindelwald by nearer giants, here shows up -more nearly in its true proportions. But Finsteraarhorn is really a -climber’s peak, and we were not to know it intimately till much later. - -[Illustration: _Grimsel Hospice_] - -Our three-franc-apiece sleeping accommodations seemed quite -sophisticated after the one-fifty lodgings of the night before, and -the reading-room in which we gathered to discuss maps and plans for -the morrow, quite a model of luxury. We wrote some letters, too, not -knowing when we should have so good a chance again. It was quite a -cosmopolitan bunch of envelopes we put into the mail-box—one for -the Mother in Grindelwald, of course, one to the Husband in the -Philippines, two or three addressed to the United States, and one to -Antonio’s parents in Brazil. - -Have I mentioned that Antonio is a Brazilian? He is not, however, the -undiluted article. He had an English grandfather who transmitted to his -descendant quite a number of easily recognizable Anglo-Saxon traits. - -In case he should take exception to my manner of stating this, let -me tell him a little parable. One summer when I was in Korea I met a -native woman at the home of a missionary. We were not able to talk -with each other except through our interpreter, but we had quite a -friendly time smiling, and after she had left, the missionary said to -me, “She thinks you are perfectly charming. She says if it wasn’t for -the clothes, you would look exactly like a Korean.” Now, I had never -been conscious of any special yearning to look like a Korean, but I -considered the source of the remark and decided it was one of the most -thoroughgoing compliments I had ever received! - -The gods were good to us next day. There was not a cloud in the sky and -the air was like champagne. Our muscles had become disciplined, our -languor was shaken off. After an excellent breakfast of coffee, rolls -and honey, we started out gayly from the grim stone hospice that had -lodged us, past the twin lakes, blue as sapphires in the bottom of a -cold gray cup, and up the steep footpath that cuts off the long loops -of the diligence road. - -The summit of the pass, just a little over seven thousand feet high, -was soon reached, and we paused to get our bearings and enjoy the view. -We were on the boundary between Canton Berne and the Valais, between -Protestant and Catholic Switzerland. But the difference between the -two is more than theological. Berne, founded by a prince to stand for -freedom, proud and prosperous from the start, one of the first to -join the Forest Cantons in their Confederation, typifies all that is -sturdy and successful in Switzerland. Poor Valais, on the other hand, -crushed under the heel of Savoie and harassed by petty local lordlings, -passed through centuries of civil war and uprisings in the struggle -for liberty, and when at last snatched from her oppressors and joined -to the Swiss Bund, it was in the poor-relation capacity of “subject -canton.” It is only in recent years that this humiliation has been -removed. The effects still show. All we saw of Valais seemed poorer, -dirtier, less intelligent and enterprising than the canton we had left. - -These peculiarities were not, however, visible from the top of the -pass. We gazed first of all at the huge Rhone glacier, from which -the river takes its rise—vast, dirty, ungainly, not to be compared -in picturesqueness with our Grindelwald glaciers. We saw the river -meandering away down the valley, the chains of snow mountains on the -other side, and the zigzag road from the opposite bank of the glacier -over the Furka Pass, which we were to travel later in the season. Near -at hand was the somber little Lake of the Dead, so called from the -number of bodies thrown into it after the fight between the Austrians -and French in 1799. - -With an affectionate backward glance at Finsteraarhorn and all the -other Bernese snow peaks we were leaving, we plunged down the steep -incline into the Rhone valley. The hotel is at the juncture of three -great diligence routes—those of the Furka, the Grimsel, and the Rhone -valley. We found ourselves in a whirl of arriving and departing -tourists and had a sophisticated lunch in their midst, then shook the -dust of Philistia from our feet and resumed our staffs and knapsacks. -We had been up to the foot of the glacier before luncheon, scorned -its bareness and dirt and haughtily declined the invitations of the -ice-grotto man, and we were now free to continue our way down the -valley. - -A few turns of the road restored us to our lost Arcadia. The first -few miles of the road led through a wild and picturesque region, with -woods and ravines, and the Infant Rhone brawling as loudly at the -Infant Aar had done the day before. But this infant was pursuing a -steep-grade downward path, and before long we found ourselves in a flat -open valley, full of cultivated fields and villages, distinctly warm in -the mid-afternoon sunshine and growing more so. The infant had become -quiet to the verge of placidity. It might almost have been a canal. -The mountain ridges along each side of the valley were, comparatively -speaking, tame. We had intended keeping on down the valley to Brieg, -where the railroad begins, but we began to chafe at the thought of -thirty-one miles of this. - -The village of Oberwald impressed itself on my memory for several -things. First, for the turnip-shaped, almost Mohammedan-looking spire -on its church, which we found to be typical of this end of the valley. -Next for the extreme difficulty with which we purchased the simple -substance of our supper, which we intended to take _al fresco_ an hour -or so later. There seemed to be no provision stores at all. After -looking all around we made inquiries and were directed to a house which -seemed to be merely a dwelling. No one was in sight, nor was there -anything to indicate mercantile pursuits. We opened the door and found -ourselves in an ill-lighted, ill-kept hallway. The nearest door, on -investigation, proved to open into an almost dark room, where a deaf -old woman rather unwillingly sold us some hard bread and a big slice of -cheese. - -The third thing for which, not only I, but all of us, remember -Oberwald was the liter of white wine purchased there. We were very, -very thirsty by now, and of course one cannot drink water in any of -these places without serious risk. The little diligence refreshment -place had no mineral waters, and we had left the region of milk. So -we took white wine—just a liter—one franc’s worth—between four of us. -It doesn’t sound very desperate. It was thin and sour and cool and -thirst-quenching. We each drank our glass down rapidly and continued -our walk. - -Soon I began to feel strange sensations—a sort of lightness in the -head and far-awayness of the landscape, a severing of connections with -my feet and uncertainty as to whether they would continue to walk -or in what direction. We compared notes. The others were feeling -similar symptoms—some more, some less. It was rather absurd and -distinctly mortifying. We wondered if we “showed it.” Fortunately we -were not likely to meet anyone who would be interested. We adjured -each other to “keep going” and “walk it off.” I shall never forget the -agonized tone of Antonio’s voice as he begged, “Give me a hunk of that -cheese—_quick_!—Don’t stop—keep moving. Maybe it won’t be so bad when -my stomach isn’t empty.” Even at the time, though, we were aware of -the humorous aspect presented by four individuals of irreproachable -antecedents, some of whom were feeling the effects of alcohol for the -first time in their lives, tearing at a mad pace down the Rhone valley, -in constant terror of their own legs, and convinced that if they paused -for a moment they would fall into a stupor by the wayside! - -The treatment (whether usual or not, I don’t pretend to know) proved -efficacious, and we gradually returned to our normal condition. The -highroad presenting no attractive site for supper, we cut across a -field or so to the river and sat down under a fringe of trees on its -bank. Here, as soon as the bread and cheese were disposed of, we got -out Baedeker and the maps and held a council. It was soon decided to -abandon the uninteresting Rhone valley, take a dip into Italy, and -arrive at Brieg by two sides of the triangle instead of one. It would -require two extra days, but we were no slaves to a schedule. We would -go over the little-traveled Gries Pass, see the Tosa falls, travel down -the Val Formazza to its joining with the Simplon road, then back by -that famous pass into Switzerland. - -I don’t know that I ever experienced the gypsy feeling more deliciously -than during that half-hour while, stretched out on the grass by the -babbling Infant Rhone, we discussed this impromptu excursion into -another country which no one but the Chronicler had ever visited -before! What light-hearted, irresponsible vagabonds we were! - -The lengthening shadows warned us to be up and moving toward Ulrichen, -which was at once the first village where we could obtain shelter for -the night and the nearest to the Gries Pass. - -Here it seemed as if our good luck was about to desert us, for the -solitary inn was full to overflowing, and we were told we must go on -to the next village. The landlady looked amiable, though, and we tried -the effect of persuasion. We were tired—very tired. We had been walking -since early morning. And it was already dark. Perhaps we would find no -room at Geschenen and would have to go all the way to Münster. We were -going over the Gries the following day—a long day’s walk at best, and -the added distance back from Münster, or even Geschenen, would be a -real hardship. Surely there was _some_ way? We would be content with -the simplest accommodations. Wasn’t there someone in the village who -would rent us two rooms for the night, if they absolutely could make no -place for us at the hotel? Finally, the good woman weakened. We could -come in and sit down and she would find us _some_thing, _some_where. In -the meantime did we wish any refreshments? Bent on abstemiousness, we -ordered hot milk—but plenty of it! - -Along about half-past nine, when the other guests had all been tucked -away out of sight, and we were nearly dropping asleep in our chairs, -the landlady and two maid servants bearing candles came to conduct -us to our lodgings. I should hate to have to find that place again. -It seemed miles away and through impenetrable shadows. We found the -man and woman of the house sitting up with a candle to greet us and -apologize for the poorness of the accommodations. Then we picked our -way up a rickety outside staircase and were ushered into the two rooms -which were to be ours. We had been told there was only one bed in each -room, but that they were large ones, _very_ large, and we had visions -of four-posters. We found just the ordinary single bed. However, it was -quite too late to go elsewhere, and we were quite too tired. We said -we’d manage somehow, and our guides withdrew. - -The boys politely took the smaller room, and I understand they tossed -pennies to see who should sleep on the floor. The apartment assigned to -Belle Soeur and me was quite spacious and immaculately clean. Sleepy -as we were, we took time to look at the numerous family photographs on -the wall and to puzzle over a square soap-stone structure built into -the side of the room, carved with names, dates and symbols. In size and -shape it looked painfully like a sarcophagus. The names and dates and -crosses on it added to the sepulchral effect. Could it be the custom of -the Valais to keep departed relatives right on in the house where they -had lived? The idea was so novel that we almost hoped it was so. In the -morning, however, it proved to be nothing more exciting than a stove. -Our landlady showed us the opening in the hall through which fuel was -introduced into its interior. I don’t know what became of the smoke. - -Our only other discovery before we lost ourselves in sleep was the date -when the house was built, 1787, carved in a great rafter over our heads. - -Belle Soeur and I tried to reduce our bulk by half and share the single -bed, but before long she slipped off the edge without waking me and -betook herself with the crocheted coverlet to the sofa. - - - - -IX - - -We were called in the gray dawn, and I remember the chill of the -bathing water. This proved to be the most economical lodging any of us -had ever had, for the charge was a franc and a half for each _bed_, so -each individual share was fifteen cents! - -We took breakfast at the hotel and had them put up a lunch for us, -but nearly broke their hearts by declining to take a guide or even -a porter. The faithful Baedeker had said “guide unnecessary in fine -weather” (which it was), and we had no notion of putting ourselves in -bondage to an attendant unless it was absolutely unavoidable. - -After we turned aside from the Rhone valley, laid out like a patchwork -quilt in cultivated fields, we saw no human being or habitation or -trace of man’s labor, save an empty cow-hut or so and the path we were -following, till late in the afternoon. The Eginenbach, whose course -we were following, drained as wild and desolate a valley as could be -imagined. It seemed to have been a great place for landslides, and -every once in a while we had to pick our way over masses of fallen rock -and débris. We felt like discoverers and rejoiced accordingly. - -After some hours’ walking we found ourselves at the end of the valley -and simultaneously lost every trace of our path. Now this was too much -of a good thing, and our rejoicing was suspended. - -The end of the valley was closed by a wall of rock about fifteen -hundred feet high, which it was our business to surmount. On top of -it was the Gries Glacier, which we were to cross, and which spilled -over into our valley in an ice-fall from the base of which issued the -Eginenbach. Somewhere there was a path, which at need a pack-horse -could follow. But where on earth did it start from? - -The land between us and the foot of the rock wall was a steep meadow -covered with bowlders and broken cliff-fragments. It had been subjected -to some sort of seismic disturbance, leaving fissures here and there, -some of them of great depth and quite too wide to jump. We lost a -lot of time retracing our steps and hunting for a way around, when -we found one of these things in front of us. We understood now why -Baedeker considered a guide advisable in foggy weather. - -At last we all agreed that we had located the path about half-way up -the wall where it crossed some snow. But how to get to it? Antonio -announced his intention of making a bee-line scramble for that point, -and, if necessary, following the path down to show us the beginning of -it. The rest of us made a detour to the left (having already pretty -well canvassed the possibilities to the right as far as the ice-fall), -and were rewarded by finding the end of a really, truly, unmistakable -bridle-path, hacked out of the rock in ledges and built up with -masonry, which we followed steeply upward. Belle Soeur got a touch of -the mountain sickness and had to lie down for a while. And I nearly -slid into perdition when we crossed the hard-frozen snow gully, because -I had trodden my heels over and the nails had worn smooth and my -alpenstock had no iron point! Antonio was waiting for us on the other -bank, and we continued upward together. - -Finally we reached the top and saw before us the flat Eis-Meer which we -were to cross. We beheld it with interest not untinged with emotion. -For although we had been living in daily association with glaciers at -Grindelwald, we had never set foot on one, and this was not only to be -our maiden glacier-crossing, but we were to do it quite, quite alone! - -In the meantime we sat down in a row on the path, our backs against the -rock and our feet protruding out into space and ate the hard-boiled -eggs and sandwiches that had been put up for us at Ulrichen. We were -not as hardened to precipices then as we later became, and I remember -the shiver with which I tossed egg-shells over the edge and felt as if -I needed to hold on to keep from going with them. - -Some rising clouds warned us to finish our meal and start on, for we -could not afford to risk being caught by a fog on the Eis-Meer. The -route was indicated by poles stuck up in the ice, but some were fallen, -and even when standing they were not near enough together to be visible -in thick weather. - -It was very thrilling when we had clambered over the pile of débris at -the edge and found ourselves on the flat, frozen slush of the Eis-Meer. -We did not know what unfamiliar dangers might be lying in wait for us, -but if they were there, we did not encounter them. There was no special -beauty or grandeur in this view of a glacier. The ice had a yellowish, -muddy look, and was perfectly flat. The midday sun was melting its -surface, and countless little streamlets of water were running in all -directions among the corrugations left by last night’s freeze. Here and -there a stream would disappear suddenly into a fissure or an air-hole. -These seemed to be of indefinite depth, but none which we saw that day -were large enough to be a menace to life. - -The threat of the clouds was not fulfilled, and we reached the other -side of the glacier in half an hour or less without accident. Just -beyond was the boundary between Switzerland and Italy, but there was -not even a stone to mark it. Strange to say, we encountered no custom -house on this route either here or later. - -Presently we began to descend a path so steep that it was hard to keep -one’s balance. Vegetation gradually reappeared, then some signs of -humanity, an empty cow-hut or so, and finally, on a slope below us, we -saw a group of men and women cutting and binding grass. And oh, the -joyful Italianness of it! All the women had bright-colored kerchiefs on -their heads and one wore a brilliant red skirt. - -It was almost sunset when we reached the first village, Morasco, where, -to our surprise, we found the inhabitants still speaking German. We -asked for milk, and a statuesque girl brought us big bowls of it, -warm from the cows, which we drank with great gusto, sitting flat on -the little grass-plot around which were grouped the dirty stone huts -which formed the village. In the next village they spoke Italian only. -My question as to the road, put first in German, was not understood -until turned into Italian. Think of the isolation of that handful of -villagers in Morasco, shut off by the mountains from the people of -Valais, whose descendants they doubtless are, and by the even more -impassable language barrier from their neighbors in the valley! - -We quickened our steps and reached the hotel at the Tosa Falls just -before dark. Baedeker allows six and a half hours’ walk from Ulrichen -to the Falls, but we had consumed nearly double the time. Of course he -allows for no stops, and we had stopped for luncheon and for milk, for -Belle Soeur’s mountain sickness, and for a number of photographs and -five-minute rests, and we had lost about an hour hunting for our path -at the head of the Eginen valley; but these things or others like them -have always to be counted on, and we found it well, as a general rule, -to allow from one and a half to twice the time given by Baedeker. - -The Tosa Falls were disappointing. Baedeker’s double star and phrase -“perhaps the grandest among the Alps” had raised our hopes too high. -I doubt if any European waterfalls can look really impressive to an -American who has seen his own country. They were at their best that -evening after dinner when we wandered down the path a little way below -the hotel and looked across and partly up at them, magnified in the dim -light. There is a drop of four hundred and seventy feet, over a broad, -bare, unpicturesque rock ledge. - -The volume of water is respectable, but nothing more. I imagine we must -have seen the river unusually full, for the upper valley was flooded to -the extent of making walking difficult when we passed down. - -We had our little growl about the hotel here, too, which charged more -than its tariff given in Baedeker and showed a disposition, encountered -for the first time on our trip, to run in extras on the bill. This -might be considered a necessary accompaniment, however, of being in -Italy. It was part of the “local color.” - -The extent to which we had grown young through the simplicity of our -life may be inferred from the character of our amusements. I can -hardly realize now that I was one of four who found entertainment -in the infantile game of mystifying our fellow-boarders across the -dinner-table that evening by linguistic gymnastics! They were a row -of unprepossessing Italians of the small-commercial-traveler type. We -spoke French mostly, German a good deal, Spanish some and English a -very little, while Antonio occasionally burst into Portuguese. Italian -was the one thing we kept clear of, so they discussed us freely in it. -They placed all our languages except the Portuguese, but what _we_ were -they could not make out. It especially worried the nervous little old -man who subsequently created some excitement by squeezing the waitress’ -hand as she passed him. Finally the silent fat man, who had taken no -part in the discussion, stopped guzzling his food long enough to emit, -above his tucked-in napkin, the following oracular statement, “They are -North Americans.” Evidently the others accepted this as settling the -matter, and we could not but admire his perspicacity, although he had -missed on Antonio. - - - - -X - - -The following day, during which we progressed down the Val Formazza -to its juncture with the Simplon road at Crevola and up that road as -far as Iselle, has a color in my memory all its own. Italy went to -our heads. Antonio reverted to type. All the Latin in him came to the -surface. Up to now, under the influence of our society and his English -grandfather, he had been the most quiet and reserved of us all. Now he -suddenly warmed up and blossomed out in shrugs and gesticulations, in -song and laughter. We all caught the contagion more or less. Our feet -had wings down that lovely wooded valley, and we laughed at nothing for -the pure joy of living. We exchanged greetings with all the cheerful, -friendly peasants whom we met, so different from the unexpansive -Swiss variety. If we did not actually see Pan and the mænads, I am -sure they were not far away. The sky above us was different from the -Swiss sky—warmer and brighter somehow. The vegetation was richer and -more luxuriant. Our northern blood bubbled and effervesced under the -enchanted touch of Italy. And in Antonio the South claimed her own -again. - -Even the discomfort of my shoes could not seriously dampen my -enjoyment. Those trodden-over heels had become nearly unbearable; but -when I caught one between two rocks and tore it off, the resulting limp -was worse. It was not till the next morning that Frater evolved the -brilliant thought of prying off the other heel to match, which was a -great relief. - -Feet and shoes are always a problem on a long pedestrian trip. A shoe -too tight is misery, but one too large, which allows the foot to rub -and chafe, is almost as bad. Any unhardened foot is sure to develop -blisters after two or three days’ walking. These rub and break and -leave the flesh raw. It isn’t pleasant, but in the high altitudes, -where there are no bacteria, everything heals rapidly, and if one -resolutely says nothing about it and keeps on walking, it isn’t so bad -as it sounds. We were all in the same fix by this time. I know now -that I bestowed more sympathy than was absolutely necessary on the -“blistered and bleeding feet” of Washington’s army, over which I used -to shed shuddering tears as a little girl. - -At San Rocco, where we lunched, we found there was still more than -fifteen miles between us and Crevola. So, as we had now struck the -carriage road and the daily diligence was just about due, we decided to -treat ourselves to a ride. - -It was a sort of uncovered omnibus, and proved to have one vacant -place too few for us, so Antonio sat on the steps. The driver must -surely have been exercising his calling for the first time, for he did -strange and fearful things all the way. The worst was when he evolved -the wonderful thought of improvising a brake by putting a piece of -stout cord-wood through the spokes of the two rear wheels. Of course -_something_ had to give way. The spokes cracked ominously and the wood, -catching in one of the carriage springs as the wheel revolved, promptly -broke it and tilted that side of the ’bus down most unpleasantly. All -the passengers, except the priest and ourselves, objurgated the driver -in fluent Italian, and the priest gave him some serious advice. So -did Frater and Antonio, but I think theirs was in English. After this -the driver became very sulky and took out his bad temper in language -addressed to the poor horses, who really were not to blame. We were -in momentary expectation of our vehicle’s falling to pieces, but it -providentially held together while we were in it. I am sure, though, -that the catastrophe must have occurred soon after we dismounted. - -We sang most of the way (heaven save the mark!) partly to distract our -minds from the supposed impending disaster, and partly because the -priest enjoyed it so much. He kept his breviary open and his eyes fixed -on it, but seldom turned a page and smiled broadly when the choruses -grew joyous. He had a good face, that priest, and it was nice to see -the way everybody greeted him with “_Buon’ giorno, Riverenza_” and -“_Addio, Riverenza_,” on entering and leaving the stage. - -Having reached Crevola, where the roads join, about four o’clock, -perfectly fresh after our long drive, we decided to walk seven miles -up the Simplon to Iselle before stopping for the night. The first part -of the road was extremely pretty. There was a deep rocky gorge with a -river at the bottom, feathery-leafed trees, and pale blue mountains, -just like a landscape by Salvator Rosa. But when we came near Iselle, -where the Italian entrance to the tunnel is located, the two sides of -the road began to close up with shanties and rookeries. We met some -thousands of workmen returning home after their day’s labor in the -tunnel. Everything swarmed, reeked and crawled, and we began to wonder -if we could possibly find a place to sleep in. We purchased a large -watermelon, and ate it sitting on a pile of stones in a wilderness of -cranes and derricks, comforting ourselves with the reflection that at -least the inside of it must be uncontaminated! - -We kept looking for the one hostelry mentioned by Baedeker, which -proved to be at the extreme end of the long-drawn-out town. Our hearts -sank as we saw it, for it was of an unspeakable griminess. Evidently it -had become a workman’s boarding-house, pure and simple. We entered, -with the faint hope of finding it better inside than out, but it -wasn’t, and we were really relieved to learn that they had no room -for us. We retraced our steps to the other hotel they told us about. -It was a blaze of light. A promiscuous crowd of men were drinking and -smoking on the front balcony, and a woman was banging concert-hall airs -out of an atrocious piano inside. The air of dirt and slovenliness -was inexpressible, and we were by no means sure the place was even -technically respectable. The proprietor, who looked like a brigand, if -ever I saw one, offered us one double room in the hotel and another -across the street. Belle Soeur and I were not particularly timid, but -we agreed that nothing conceivable would tempt us to spend the night -in that hole, with our natural protectors in another building. A -young German tourist, a pedestrian like ourselves, understanding our -predicament, offered to share his room with Frater and Antonio, so as -to keep the party under one roof. We thanked him and held his offer -in reserve, but resolved to try first the one other inn which we had -noticed in passing. - -It proved to be kept by a gruff old German-speaking Swiss, and was, -though plain, quite reasonably clean inside and of a reassuring -respectability. The price—four francs apiece for lodging—struck us -as high in view of the accommodations, and we said so. The reply was -surprising. “If you had come to me first, it would have been less. But -you visited every hotel in town and came to me as a last resort. I -saw you when you passed.” The joyous shout of laughter with which we -greeted this explanation seemed rather to nonplus the old man. But we -made no further protest. His frankness was worth the money. - -The balcony in front of our rooms overhung the noisiest river I ever -heard, while our windows looked out on the main street, which was -filled till midnight with an equally noisy stream of people; but it -would have taken more than noise to keep us awake, now that we had -clean sheets and felt safe. - -We got away from unprepossessing Iselle as soon as possible the next -morning. Although we had enjoyed our detour into Italy, I think all -of us experienced a sense of relief when we passed the custom house -a couple of miles up the road and found ourselves once more in clean, -honest Switzerland. - -This was an easy day for us, walking somewhat lazily up the easy grade -of the excellent post-road which Napoleon was good enough to build for -us. It was rather warm and we spent the entire day covering fifteen -miles lengthwise and forty-four hundred feet of ascent. - -The Simplon road has a great reputation for scenery, and doubtless it -would be imposing if one came to it from the plains. But to us who -had been living in the heart of the Oberland and who were fresh from -that wild climb over the Gries Pass, it was disappointingly tame and -sophisticated. - -A road-house which we passed had a stone tablet cut into the wall, -announcing that at this spot Napoleon stopped and drank a glass of -milk. So we did the same (being probably thirstier than he) and paid -several prices for the association’s sake. - -We ate our luncheon under the shade of a big tree on a velvety meadow -running down to a brook, where we refreshed ourselves by washing -faces, hands and arms in the cold clear water. - -By the way, do people generally realize that glacier water is _not_ -clear? It is always thick and muddy, a regular _café-au-lait_ color. -Some of the mountain streams which do not come from glaciers are almost -as cold and are crystal clear. - -We made it a general rule to drink no water on our tramps. Sometimes it -was a great temptation, for we would get very thirsty walking, and we -were always crossing cool little streams that looked the incarnation of -innocence. Doubtless some of them were, but we had no means of knowing -which was which. - -Antonio was the thirstiest of our party and the most inclined to waive -prudence and drink, but a graphic description of his shapely throat -adorned with a large goiter usually had the desired restraining effect. -He didn’t care a rap about typhoid, of which the danger was much -greater. But we all draw the line _somewhere_, and _he_ drew it at -goiter! - -This reminds me that goiter must be dying out in Switzerland. I don’t -think we saw half a dozen cases all summer, but I remember it as one -of the horrors of my childhood when I visited Switzerland before. It -seems to me nearly every other old person had one then. - -There is a hotel on top of the Simplon Pass, and there was no reason -in the world why we should not patronize it; but we decided it would -be much more interesting to lodge at the Hospice built and endowed by -Napoleon and served by the monks of Saint Bernard. - -It is a big, barracks-like stone building approached by an imposing -flight of steps. At the top is a rope which it is the business of the -visitor to pull. It sets a huge bell vibrating in the stone hallway and -one feels that one has created an undue disturbance for a mendicant. A -member of the brotherhood responds, one asks for hospitality for the -night, he leads one to an immaculate bedroom and tells one the dinner -hour. - -We had taken a provisional farewell of each other on the doorstep -before pulling the bell-rope, for we knew nothing of the customs of the -place and had an idea that we feminine members of the quartette would -probably be herded in some wing apart and not allowed to communicate -with our escorts till we left. Nothing of the kind occurred. It was -just as though we had been in a hotel, without the necessity of asking -prices. They did not even expect us to attend chapel. The bare stone -walls and floor lent an air of conventual austerity, and the presence -of the monks reminded us where we were. - -When the dinner-bell rang, we assembled, along with twenty or thirty -other chance guests, at two long tables, and, to our surprise, the -brotherhood ate with us. The meal, though plain, was generous in -quantity, and they kept pressing us to eat more with true hospitality. -We found our hosts very interesting to talk to. One old man took a -profound interest in America, especially in the St. Louis exposition, -and plied us with questions about it. Naturally _we_ were more -interested in asking about _their_ life and mission, which seemed to -us a delightful but highly incongruous survival of medievalism. They -admitted that the Hospice served no very useful purpose in summer, but -it did a big charity work spring and fall when thousands of Italian -laborers were tramping into Switzerland and back, who could not afford -to stop at the hotel, and during winter, when the hotel was closed, -though travelers were few, the Hospice became a life-saving necessity -to those who did go over the pass. After dinner they showed us the -portrait of himself that Napoleon had given the Hospice and a few other -treasured relics. - -There is no charge whatever made for meals and lodging at the Hospice, -and the offering one puts into the almsbox is entirely voluntary. We -had to ask where this box was, and I do not think it would have been -brought to our attention in any way had we failed to do so. I imagine -many fail, or unduly consult economy in their offerings, for we noticed -that our hosts, who had been most kind throughout, became positively -effusive after we had deposited in the box—no princely sum at all, but -just about what we calculated we would have expended at the hotel. I -must say most of our fellow guests looked as if they deserved Frater’s -characterization of “dead beats,” and yet the brothers told us that -travelers often found fault with their accommodations! Probably the -less they paid, the more fault they found. But even this sordid company -could not spoil the sentiment of the place for us, and the memory of -our night at the Hospice remains one of the jewels in our casket. - - - - -XI - - -Next morning, after dipping large hunks of dry bread into big steaming -bowls of coffee and milk, along with the rest of the beneficiaries, we -took a cordial farewell of our good hosts, and set out on our way. We -soon reached the highest point of the pass (six thousand five hundred -and ninety feet) and began the down grade with long swinging steps. -This day, indeed, we could not afford to loiter very much, for we had -a two o’clock train to catch at Brieg, fifteen miles away, and we must -get our luncheon somewhere along the road in the meantime. - -The scenery was pretty, even beautiful, but nowhere approaching -grandeur on this day’s walk. - -We caught that train—_just_, having run the last two blocks of the way, -bought our tickets on the fly, and clambered aboard breathless and -warm at the very last permissible moment. We felt quite pleased at the -Americanness of our proceeding. - -It was a very short ride to Visp, where we had to wait some time for -the train to Zermatt. Here we were back in the Rhone valley, twenty odd -miles below where we had left it at Ulrichen three days before! It was -fairly palpitating with the heat that particular afternoon. In fact it -seemed to be doing so whenever we met it. - -I thought we would be less uncomfortable if we did something, so -I pointed out the towers and spires of what appeared to be a very -picturesque castle on a hill in the center of the town and dragged -off the reluctant family to visit it. It turned out to be an optical -illusion produced by two churches in line, neither of which was in the -least interesting, but our united temperature had been raised several -degrees in learning this. I must say that the family took the matter -very amiably. - -Finally the Zermatt train got ready to start. I wouldn’t like to say -how many hours it took us to travel the twenty-two and a half miles of -this road, but we spent the remainder of the afternoon on it. It is -true that we ascended more than three thousand feet on the way, but -the speed of our train was certainly not excessive. - -Zermatt is the highest of the big tourist resorts, its altitude being -five thousand three hundred and fifteen feet. Its season is short, -but very crowded. The town in itself is exceedingly ugly—all hotels -and tourist shops and the mushroom air of an American boom-town -born over-night. But the surrounding mountains are glorious. The -Matterhorn, which is close at hand, we were all gazing at, spellbound, -for the first time. We had never before quite believed its pictures. -Nobody ever does. I don’t suppose there is such another peak in the -world—bizarre, incredible, rankly _impossible_, like the acute-angled -mountains children draw on their slates. It made one shiver to think -of human beings climbing up those all-but-vertical smooth rock sides -to the needle peak nine thousand feet above us, and it was hardly -surprising to hear that the local graveyard is filled with the bodies -of tourists from many lands who have attempted it unsuccessfully. - -The climbers’ tragedies, repeated each summer, are tragic enough, the -more so for their utter uselessness. But the poetry which these have -inspired, having missed the sublime, has fallen into the ridiculous. - -One choice bit, taken from one of the local guides obligingly gotten up -by the Swiss government in all languages and distributed free at the -Bureaus of Information in the principal cities, filled us with especial -glee: - - “No dread crevasse, no rugged steep, - No crag on the dizzy height, - But knows the crash of a human heap - Thudding into the night. - - * * * * * - - Ask not the dead, who slumber now - In the village grave hard by - How they rolled from the mountain brow - And toppled down from the sky.” - -[Illustration: _The Matterhorn from the outskirts of Zermatt_] - -Isn’t the “crash of a human heap” an altogether delightful expression? -And will you please imagine anyone’s so violating meter and manners -as to make that foolish inquiry of “the dead in the village grave”? -As for us, we rejoiced over these gems and others like them all the -way up from Visp (when we weren’t looking out of the windows), and -“toppling down from the sky” became part of our daily vocabulary. - -The swarms of tourists in Zermatt oppressed us, and we looked with -dread at the caravansaries which housed them. As usual, there seemed to -be just one long street, and we followed it to the other end, hoping -for a sequestered spot where we could be at peace with the mountains. -At the very outskirts of the village we came upon a quiet, clean little -house called the Pension des Gorges du Trift, and here we straightway -resolved to hang up our hats and knapsacks. - -This was the end of our first week’s tramping, and we all voted it a -grand success as we sat on a damp bench after dinner watching the red -lights on the cascades of the Trift, which was the special property -of our small hostelry. I don’t care much, as a rule, for artificially -lighted waterfalls, but this seemed to be so entirely our own private -personal illumination of an otherwise untouched wilderness, and the -porter was so beautifully proud of it that we couldn’t have found it in -our hearts to object. - -Bright and early next morning we went to the post-office and got the -first mail we had had since leaving home. Very delightful it was to -hear that the Babes and the Mother were flourishing, the household -machinery running smoothly and that we were to stay away as long as we -liked! - -The next thing I did, while other members of the party were renewing -kodak supplies, was to buy a pair of shoes and have the soles well -studded with nails. And what a heavenly relief it was to get proper -footgear again on my poor feet! - -These preliminary errands attended to, we took the mountain railroad to -the Riffelberg and walked from there to the summit of the Gornergrat. -The railroad goes within a fifteen-minute walk of the top, but both -economy and pleasure counseled us to get out at the earlier station. - -I recall the fellow-citizen from Keokuk or Kokomo, I forget which, -who sat opposite to us in the open car going up. He thirsted for some -statistical information, which Antonio, who is the soul of courtesy, -supplied. Whereupon he fastened like a leech on the poor boy and -began plying him with questions till the rest of us had to plunge in -to rescue him and keep a few tattered shreds of our personal history -from that relentless cross-examiner! We were glad to leave him at the -Riffelberg. - -The view from the Gornergrat is certainly one of the grandest on God’s -earth. Here, as nowhere else, can the average person, without danger or -fatigue, get into the very heart of the glacier world. One stands on a -rocky ledge, the Gornergrat, and all around and below sweep and swirl -the great frozen rivers. From their far brink rise the bare jagged peak -of the Matterhorn and the round snow-clad shoulders of the Breithorn -and Monta Rosa. Way down below lies the green valley with Zermatt in -its hollow, and away as far as the eye can reach are ranges upon ranges -of snow mountains. - -If we could have had it all to ourselves without the tourists! But then -we should have had to work very much harder for it. It is better to -take the gifts which the gods provide and be thankful. - -It did not seem to me as if I could ever come to love the Valais -mountains as I did those of the Oberland, but they were magnificent. - -We had reached our maximum altitude thus far for the summer, 10,290 -feet. The air was very thin, and we watched Belle Soeur carefully for -signs of the mountain sickness. But thanks, I suppose, to our having -made all but eighteen hundred feet of the ascent by rail and the -careful slowness with which we had climbed the remainder, she escaped -this time entirely. - -We ate our lunch on a rock overlooking the great Gorner glacier, just -as far from the tourists and the summit restaurant as we could get. -Then, when we had looked our fill and tried to store our minds with -enough glacier pictures to last the rest of our lives, we began the -long but delightful descent afoot to Zermatt. All the way down we kept -getting beautiful views, and I think the Matterhorn never looked finer -than seen between the fir trees of the lower slopes in the pink glow of -sunset. - -Who would have guessed that our harmonious little party was going to be -disrupted on the morrow—and by me, its shepherd and chaperon! - - - - -XII - - -An exhaustive account of the causes leading up to my famous elopement -with the cash capital would lead us far afield. If the man from Kokomo -were here to cross-examine me, he would probably get it all out of me. -But he is not. I shall, therefore, make no attempt to gain credit for -the really noble and altruistic motives which animated me, and the -reader will have to make his own diagnosis. He will probably decide -that eight days of being called Fräulein and Mademoiselle had turned -my matronly head and produced an Indian-summer florescence of the -practical-joking age. Or he may explain my conduct as one of those -occasional eccentric outbursts in usually well-disciplined characters, -such as have been celebrated in a whole cycle of short stories of “The -Revolt of Mother” and “Wild Oats of a Spinster” type. It really doesn’t -matter. My shoulders are broad, and my reputation, I think, will stand -the strain. At all events, I hope so. - -It happened that on the day following the Gornergrat trip we resolved -to take it easy. We slept late in the morning, had our lunch put up -for us at the hotel and wandered out with it in the direction of the -Staffel Alp, resolved not to go all the way unless we felt like it. -Now, we had been living a pretty strenuous life, and relaxing the -bent bow all at once was a little risky. We were in prime physical -condition, and the masculine half of the party, not having wholly -emerged from the colt stage, were distinctly feeling their oats. -I don’t wish to go into horrid details, but when it came time for -luncheon Belle Soeur and I found ourselves without any. - -“I give you infants fair warning,” said I, “that if the bearer of the -common purse should be pushed too far, she might take her doll rags and -go home, and it might prove inconvenient.” - -This threat referred to the fact that they had all given me their money -to take care of at the beginning of the trip, I being the one who made -the business arrangements and paid the bills and who was supposed to -be least likely to leave it all under a pillow. But Frater replied -jeeringly, “Oh, you can’t frighten me _that_ way! I’ve got eight francs -in my pocket!” And Antonio chimed in, “I’ve got six-fifty.” - -“All right,” said I, “good-bye. Shall we go get some luncheon, Belle -Soeur?” - -As soon as we were out of hearing on the path back to Zermatt, we began -to discuss what we should do. For one wild moment we considered the -expediency of just disappearing—taking a train and going off somewhere -and leaving the boys to settle the hotel bill with their fourteen -francs fifty as best they could. We soon decided that this would be -too low-down mean. So little by little we plotted the details of a -modified disappearance, including the fairy story which was supposed to -save our “face” and the boys’ at the hotel. We rushed in with an air -of great haste. Would they show us the time-table? Would they get our -bill ready? We had received word which made it necessary to curtail -our visit and go home immediately. We could not even wait for the two -gentlemen, who had gone on a long tramp and might not be back till -late. We would leave a note of explanation for them, and they would -doubtless take the first train. Yes, we would pay for _all_. It would -make it easier for them if they had _just_ time to catch a train. So -we hustled our belongings into our knapsacks, and I wrote a letter to -Frater saying we had decided to go to Leuk (on the hill) that evening -by rail, that they could rejoin us there on foot the next day if they -wished to, and that the second morning, if they had not appeared, we -would continue over the Gemmi Pass and home according to program. I -also mentioned that the hotel bill had been paid. - -All this time we were momentarily expecting the arrival of the boys to -make their peace. But they did not come. - -We took a belated lunch at the station buffet and had time to perfect -our plans a little further. We had all originally intended to walk from -Zermatt to Visp. It was an easy and pretty walk, and why should we give -it up? And what on earth could we do with ourselves for a whole day at -Leuk in that hot Rhone valley? But we had to get out of Zermatt. So we -bought our tickets to a little station called Randa, only six miles -away. And when we got there, having considerable daylight still on our -hands, walked five or six miles further to St. Niklaus. - -We went to the Grand Hotel, which was not excessively grand, but -English curates and such like eminently respectable people were -boarding there. We felt that it would not just do for two lone females -to experiment in cheap lodgings. - -The hotel did not quite rate clean napkins at each meal, so the curates -and their friends kept theirs from contamination by buttoning them up, -ring and all, in neat little embroidered shawl-strap covers. It was -beautifully in character, and we loved them for it. We were further -rejoiced by their signatures in the hotel register, especially that -of a very small, dapper, timid little clerical gentleman who in a -microscopic but superlatively correct hand described himself as a -“Clerk in Holy Orders.” - -The excitement of our successful elopement had put us into the -highest spirits. We had enjoyed our walk greatly. And we had no -compunctions—ah, not the ghost of a one! But when, after the evening -meal was over, we had retired to our room in the Grand Hotel and -looked out on the darkening landscape, we began to wish we knew where -the boys were. We were tolerably sure they would be sleeping in the -open air that night. They would hardly waste any of their small hoard -on lodgings. It wouldn’t hurt them, of course. In fact, it would do -them good. But we wouldn’t greatly object, now that our dignity was -vindicated, to seeing those long-legged objects with knapsacks on backs -swing into view under our window. However, they didn’t. And we went to -bed and to sleep. - -After an excellent breakfast next morning we started on our ten-mile -walk down the valley to Visp. We went along laughing and singing and -still enormously pleased with ourselves. We discussed from time to time -such questions as whether the pretty waitress had really given Frater -my letter, and whether the boys were now ahead of us or behind us on -the road. I was inclined to the former theory, but it all depended on -how soon after we left they had reached the Hotel du Trift. If they had -gotten there shortly after our departure, they would doubtless have -started immediately walking down the road to shorten the next day’s -tramp all they could, for it was about thirty-two miles from Zermatt to -Leuk on the hill. They should have spent the night in the vicinity of -Randa or even farther along. And people who sleep out of doors usually -do not sleep late in the morning. So doubtless they arose some two -hours earlier than we did and were very likely even now ahead of us. If -not, with their more rapid gait, they would soon catch up. - -It was to meet this latter contingency that we decided it would be -a kind attention to leave bulletins along the road for them. I have -already alluded to our habit of putting notes of explanation for each -other in conspicuous places. I tore a leaf from my account book and -penciled on it “E. E. W. and M. F. W. passed this spot at 10:15 A. M., -Aug. 10th, heading north, in excellent health.” Then folded it up and -put Frater’s and Antonio’s initials on the outside and pinned it to a -tree by the road. - -After this we went along like Hop o’ My Thumb and his white pebbles, -leaving a bulletin every half hour. These were of various sorts. Some -gave little personal items about ourselves designed to allay any -anxiety they might be supposed to be feeling about us, such as “11:45 -A. M., M. F. W. and E. E. W. have just had a light refection of fruit -and seltzer water and feel much refreshed.” Some were intended to -administer spiritual consolation to our young friends in case they -were feeling the pinch of any material want. Of this type was the text -“Blessed are they which hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they -shall be filled,” and “_Allah ya tik_.” This last is an Arabic phrase -which my husband and I had picked up in Egypt. It signifies, “God will -provide for you,” and you say it to beggars when you don’t want to give -them anything yourself. One bulletin was really practical and informed -them that M. F. W. and E. E. W. would lunch at the station buffet at -Visp and take the two o’clock train to Leuk Susten. - -As we approached Visp, it grew hotter and hotter and hotter. We reached -the station about one o’clock and, choosing a little table on the -shady side of the platform, ordered the most cooling lunch we could -devise. - -It was at this time that our hearts began to melt (no wonder in such a -temperature) and we got rather sorry for the abandoned boys. The heat -waves were fairly dancing out in the Rhone valley, and it made our -heads ache just to think of walking ten miles in that fiery furnace -to Leuk Susten. And we doubted their having the wherewithal to buy -railroad tickets. - -We watched along the road, expecting them every minute to appear in -sight. - -“Shall we wait for the four o’clock train,” suggested Belle Soeur, “so -we can take them along with us?” - -“But suppose they are _ahead_ of us and are actually at this minute -staving down that dreadful Rhone valley? Supposing they get there -before we do and don’t find us? We _said_ we’d be there, and they would -have no way of understanding our change of program. They’d be boiled -and worn out and penniless and would think themselves abandoned for -sure.” So we took the train and went on. - -The truthful Baedeker says it is only a mile from Leuk Susten, the -station, to old Leuk on the hill, but Belle Soeur and I agreed as we -toiled up the shadeless road in the middle of the hot afternoon that it -was quite the longest mile we had ever traversed. It was a picturesque -little old place when we got to it, with a ruined castle and just two -inns, very modest looking, and obligingly side by side. - -We got a room and bespoke another for the gentlemen of our party when -they should arrive. We cooled ourselves off by dint of bathing and -clean collars, sallied out and had a look at the ruins of the castle, -then found a turn of the road that commanded all the lower windings -to the railroad station, including a long bridge across the river, -and sat ourselves down to watch. Every time we saw two specks of -humanity approaching we were sure it was our boys. We developed various -theories. Perhaps they had economized on eating so as to come by rail -from Visp. If so, that later train was just in, and they ought to be -appearing any minute. A carriage was seen winding up the road. “Perhaps -they are in it,” suggested Belle Soeur; “it would be just like their -enterprise to charter a carriage and have themselves delivered C. O. -D.” - -But they weren’t in the carriage. And the various pedestrians whom we -had taken for them turned into peasants returning from work, women, -priests, or commercial travelers, on nearer approach. - -Twilight was stealing over the Rhone valley, and a little wistful sense -of loneliness was stealing over _us_. It had been a fine game, this -eloping, but we had now reached the time scheduled for it to end in a -happy reunion—all hands around and everything forgiven. - -We went back to the hotel and got them to set a little table for our -dinner on the balcony outside the dining-room. Of course it was cooler -and in every way pleasanter out there. And it also commanded the street. - -Afterwards, we sat at our window and watched that street till bed-time, -though we kept up a pretense of talking. Belle Soeur says that I jumped -up out of bed in the middle of the night and ran to the window because -somebody was walking by on the stone pavement. _I_ say _she_ did it. -Perhaps both stories are true. - - - - -XIII - - -According to what we had said in our Zermatt letter, if the boys had -not rejoined us by the morning of August 11th, we would continue over -the Gemmi Pass and back to Grindelwald by ourselves. - -We talked over the pros and cons, but could see no reason for changing -this. We could not figure out any explanation for their not having -caught up with us, if they had made an effort to do so. The thirty-two -or three miles down grade on a good road, was a long day’s walk, -especially in view of the heat of the last part, but it was by no means -prohibitive. We had walked almost as far several times ourselves, and -the young men always gave us to understand that they had plenty of -reserve strength which _our_ style of walking made no drafts on. The -only inference seemed to be that they had stayed quietly in Zermatt and -sent home for money. We therefore felt that we had been abandoned, so -we cast the ungrateful wretches from our minds and started forth. - -Strange to say, although deprived of the stimulus of masculine walking, -we kept nearer to the Baedeker time schedule this day than we had ever -done before. He allows three and a half hours for the walk from Leuk to -Leuk Baden, which we made in four. - -It was rather warm all the way, for our rise in altitude was just about -balanced by the advance towards midday. For a long time we were looking -down into the Rhone valley and across to the mountains on the other -side, then we struck north towards the divide, and the foothills closed -up behind us. - -We reached Leuk Baden about half-past eleven, got our lunch in a -restaurant that offered us a little table on a second-story balcony -overhanging the main street, visited the baths, which were at that hour -deserted, and continued on our way. We felt a mild curiosity to see the -patrons of the baths disporting themselves in the pools, but not enough -to keep us until the afternoon bathing hour. - -The thermal establishments are large, though rather dingy. Besides many -corridors of private baths, there is the great common pool, where -everybody taking the cure is supposed to disport himself or herself for -several hours morning and afternoon standing up to the chin in water, -while the public gazes from a balcony. These rendezvous are said to -be very animated, with plenty of talking and singing. There are also -little trays floating around on which tea or other refreshments can be -served, or books, or writing materials placed. Why, in such prolonged -promiscuous soaking, the afflicted do not interchange microbes and -emerge with three or four diseases instead of one, I do not pretend to -say. - -There is something peculiarly unattractive about skin diseases (which -is what the Leuk springs are used for) even if you call them cutaneous -disorders, and Belle Soeur and I gathered our garments particularly -close around us all the time we were there and avoided touching things. -It was partly because of this creepy, crawly feeling that we did not -wait for the bathing hour, and partly because we did not know how long -it might take us to climb the three-thousand-foot rock wall between us -and the pass. Baedeker says two and a half hours, and if it took us -twice that time, we would need the whole afternoon. It did not look -like a place where one would care to be caught after dark. - -I do not suppose there is anything quite like the Gemmi Pass anywhere. -The cliff is absolutely vertical. It looks as if you could let down -a bucket by a rope from the top and pull it up full of water without -spilling. The Cantons of Berne and Valais built the path up it way back -in 1736-41, and a very excellent path it is, all hewn out of the solid -rock and winding back and forth in steep zigzags or round and round -like a spiral staircase. Baedeker says the path is five feet wide. I -should have put it at nearer three. But certainly it is wide enough -for entire safety, though a person inclined to dizziness would not -enjoy the look downward. The grade was so steep that our feet were bent -upwards in an acute angle to the axis of the leg, and the little-used -muscles involved ached for days afterwards. - -It is possible to go up on horseback (though I think it much pleasanter -to trust to one’s own feet), but the authorities have not allowed the -descent to be made on horseback, since some fatal accidents occurred. -These incidents are commemorated by little tablets and monuments whose -inscriptions we read in passing. - -It was a very interesting climb, and to our intense surprise, though -we did not hurry at all, and gave ourselves frequent brief rests, we -made it virtually in the Baedeker time. The ever-expanding view as -we mounted upward led us to expect a great treat when we reached the -summit, but as ill luck would have it, clouds closed in around us just -before we got there and we had to make a run for the hotel to avoid a -drenching. - -We ordered tea, for it was cold up there, 7640 feet in the air, and -wrote letters and waited for it to clear off. We had intended to spend -the night at this hotel, but a restless spirit was upon us, the hotel -struck us as dreary, and it was still only the middle of the afternoon. -So when it stopped raining we pushed on. - -Our route lay over an almost level plateau, very slightly down grade, -through a desolate region of bare rock with snow peaks on either -hand, past a bleak Alpine lake. We came in about an hour to another -inn, which we knew was the last shelter we should find till we reached -Kandersteg on the other side of the pass. But it was still early, and -we were in the mood for walking, so we kept on. - -We passed through what Baedeker aptly calls “a stony chaos,” thence to -a “pasture strewn with stones and débris, which was entirely devastated -in September, 1895, by a burst of the glacier covering the slopes of -the Attels (11,930’) to the left. A tablet commemorates the six persons -who lost their lives on this occasion.” - -Many glaciers were hanging above us here, all presumably liable to do -the same sort of thing at any moment. I do not imagine this was any -likelier to happen because of the absence of the boys, but I think -Belle Soeur and I felt the somber and menacing character of the scenery -more keenly than if we had been in their enlivening company. - -When we reached tree level, all this desolation vanished. The path ran -through a forest along a ledge cut in the side of a gorge, and through -the foliage we had very lovely views of the leafy ravine and the -mountain slopes on the other side. The colors were especially beautiful -in the sunset glow, and we regretted that we could not linger to enjoy -it; but we had no very clear idea how much farther we had to walk, and -there was evidently not much daylight left. - -We quickened our pace, and it was well we did so. The down grade was -now very steep and we could keep up a tremendous gait, though at some -risk of “toppling down from the sky.” At last we came to a place where -the gorge we had been following opened out into the Kander valley, and -we could see the village we were aiming for still a thousand feet at -least below us. - -We thought we had been walking as fast as we could before. But we now -began a race with the oncoming darkness, under the stimulus of our -strong objection to spending the night in the very chilly atmosphere -of this high Alpine mountain-side, which quite outdid our previous -performances. - -This path was not quite so steep as the one by which we had climbed -from Leuk Baden to the summit, nor was the rock wall as absolutely -perpendicular, but they were close seconds. We used our alpenstocks -practically as vaulting poles and came down in long kangaroo-like -leaps. We had still a remnant of twilight, as indeed was absolutely -essential to walking on this path. Darkness and the safe road at the -bottom arrived simultaneously, and we fairly groped our way the last -half mile to the first hotel, guided only by its lights. - -To our great disgust we found the hotel full. We were just wound up to -last that far, and the few hundred yards to the next hotel seemed an -almost impossible exertion. Besides, the painful thought occurred to -us that maybe it was contrary to Swiss etiquette to take in unescorted -women after dark, and we would find all the hotels “full.” However, -this dreadful fear did not prove to be well founded, for at the next -hotel they had a room for us, and we retired to it joyously. It was a -sophisticated place with brass beds and electric bells and liveried -attendants, and we felt eminently safe and well cared for. - -We had intended taking the diligence from Kandersteg to Frutigen, but -as we found it involved either starting at 5 A. M. or waiting till -afternoon, we resolved to walk the eight miles involved at our leisure -next morning. - -This we did, interrupted only by a shower, which led us to call on a -peasant woman in her châlet. Our road was adorned by a ruined castle or -so, pertaining to extinct robber barons who used to lord it over the -valley. I remember the intense interest manifested by the postmaster -of an infinitesimal village post-office we passed, over a letter I -mailed there addressed to my husband in the Philippines. I had to give -him an epitome of our family history before I could get away. But -somehow his questions were only amusing, not annoying like those of -the man from Kokomo. In the one instance one instinctively felt the -questions an impertinence, in the other they were merely childlike. -What is it makes the difference? - -Frutigen is a railway terminus. We took the train from here to Spiez on -Lake Thun, thence another to Interlaken, caught the afternoon express -to Grindelwald, and walked safe and sound into the Châlet Edelweiss. - - - - -XIV - - -Our first question, after greeting the Mother and the Babes, was, -“Have you heard from the boys? Do you know where they are?” The Mother -admitted that she had received a telegram from them at Leuk Susten the -day before, requesting money, and a letter that morning, and that they -would probably get home the next day. - -They did, and the hatchet was buried, and we swapped yarns about our -adventures. It seems that after we left them on the mountain-side, they -decided it would be healthier for them not to return to the hotel till -our wrath had had time to cool. So they went on to the Staffel Alp, got -lost, and thought they would have to stay out all night, but finally -found the path and arrived home, footsore and weary, long after dark. -The pretty waitress handed them my letter and watched them read it, but -I understand they betrayed no unbecoming emotion for her satisfaction. -It seems that the claim of wealth they had made to us was a bluff. -When it came to the point, they could muster only about eight francs -between them! And then that unkind pretty waitress appeared with our -wash clothes which she had succeeded in getting back from the laundress -(we had arranged to have them sent after us by mail), and there was -four francs to pay on them, and the poor lads had to fill up their -knapsacks with Belle Soeur’s and my lingerie (that was the unkindest -cut of all) and go forth into the cold world with only four francs -between them. - -They were too tired to go any distance. A mile or so out of Zermatt -they encountered a haymow and slept in it. Next morning they -breakfasted on dry bread and continued down the road to Visp, but not, -I take it, at a very snappy gait. They found a few of our bulletins, -including the one that told them when we were going to leave Visp, but -they arrived at the station just too late to catch us there. If we had -waited for the next train, as Belle Soeur suggested, what a beautiful -and touching reunion we might have had! They had started down that hot -Rhone valley about 3 P. M., still subsisting on dry bread, had tried -short cuts and brought up in marshes and had to retrace their steps. -Finally, they decided to give it up and lodged in another haymow. They -found next morning that they were still some miles from Leuk Susten, so -there was no chance of catching up with us. They therefore went to a -good hotel, had a bath and a square meal on their expectations and used -the last of their money to telegraph for funds. They got their reply -the same afternoon, but resolved to recuperate till next morning and -start fresh. So they passed over the Gemmi twenty-four hours behind us. - -Apropos of Belle Soeur’s and my experiences by ourselves, I want -to say that everything went just as smoothly and pleasantly as if -we had had masculine escorts, and that so far as our example goes, -there would seem to be no reason why two sensible women should not -tramp over Switzerland by themselves if they feel like it. Still, I -should hesitate to advise it from instances that later came under my -observation of how objectionable the usually respectable Schweizer may -become under the influence of liquor. - -The day after the boys’ return was the Mother’s birthday, and we -resolved to celebrate it by a picnic. But mark how soon bad habits -become fixed! We could not get through the day without splitting up -the party! The split, however, did not occur along the old line of -cleavage, so perhaps, on the whole, it had a healing effect. - -It happened thus: Belle Soeur was making a birthday cake to be produced -at dinner, and Frater was making candy. The rest of us, therefore, -got ready before they did, and as the Younger Babe was a slow walker, -we started on ahead with him, the Mother, Antonio, Suzanne and I, -carrying the eatables for luncheon. The Elder Babe waited for the cake -and candy makers, who were to follow with the drinkables. We went to -the Wetterhorn Blick—a very beautiful spot on the hillside, with trees -and grass and, as the name indicates, a remarkably fine view of the -Wetterhorn and Upper Glacier. - -We waited and waited and waited until starvation forced us to begin -eating. We went slowly at first, still hoping the belated ones would -appear. But they didn’t, and our appetites had grown meanwhile, so we -kept on till the last sandwich and crumb of cake disappeared. We hadn’t -a drop of anything to drink, but fortunately we had oranges, which -answered the purpose reasonably well. - -When we went home to dress for dinner after a delightful day, we found -the absentees comfortably installed there. They had gotten lost and -couldn’t find us, so they went home and lunched by themselves. I don’t -know what they ate, but they certainly had plenty to drink! - -We thought we would make another try at a united birthday excursion for -the Mother, and this time we really succeeded, although we again risked -going in two sections! This was to be an excursion to the temporary -terminus of the Jungfrau railroad then under construction. The Mother, -the Elder Babe and the luncheon went up to the Kleine Scheidegg by -train, while the pedestrian quartette walked up. We effected a junction -without difficulty this time and all proceeded together afoot to the -Eiger Glacier. - -We led the Mother and the Babe right on to this glacier and sat them -and ourselves down upon it for luncheon. There were tourists coming and -going all the time, a place for tobogganing, a vender of postal cards, -and all that sort of thing. But it is a fine glacier notwithstanding -its pollutions. - -After luncheon we boarded an ascending train and went through a long -tunnel to what was then the terminus, the Eigerwand station (9405 feet -high). One finds oneself in an artificial cavern hewn out of the rock, -and an opening in the side gives a fine bird’s-eye view (if one cares -for that sort of thing) of the Grindelwald valley, Interlaken and Lake -Thun. But it looks a good deal like a railway map. - -Altogether, though we were glad to have taken the trip so as to be -sure we had not missed anything, we felt that the long ride in a dark -tunnel in order to enjoy this peep-show view which doesn’t begin to be -as fine as the one we left below us at the Scheidegg, was a good deal -of a fake. Doubtless when the road is finished, one will have something -well worth making the trip for, and I suppose the railroad must not be -blamed for gathering in what shekels it can in the meantime, as its -expenses of construction must be tremendous, but it is a _little_ bit -hard on the public! - -We spent eleven days in Grindelwald this time, enjoying the -(comparative) comforts of home and recuperating for another trip. -It rained a good deal. But we managed to work in a number of walks -and another picnic or so, and we had some moonlight evenings of -surpassing loveliness. Frater ran across two Princeton men he knew in -the village one day, and I asked them to stay to dinner with a brave -show of hospitality, making rapid mental plans in the meantime for -the acquiring of two more forks, spoons, knives, plates and glasses. -However, they could not come, so it was all right. - -It was during this period that the avalanches from the Wetterhorn -became so numerous. There is a sheer drop of four or five thousand feet -on the side towards the Grosse Scheidegg and at the top of it, sloping -back steeply, an immense accumulation of snow. The summer’s meltings -were beginning to tell on this, and every once in a while a great mass -would detach itself and come sliding down over the edge of the cliff -with a roar like thunder. It looked like a great foaming cascade, and -would often keep pouring for several minutes, so that the one who -first noticed it would call the others, who would leave what they were -doing and get to windows or veranda in time to see a part of it. These -phenomena came to be of daily occurrence, and we finally grew too blasé -to run to the window when called. - -Another beautiful effect we enjoyed was the rainbow that almost always -followed a shower. One end of the bow generally came down in front of -the Mettenberg cliffs, just opposite us, and lost itself in the foliage -growing over the banks of the Lütschine. - -Just before we left we had our first reminder of autumn in a snow-storm -which covered the Männlichen slopes in front of us and the Faulhorn and -Schwarzhorn ridges behind us with fine white powder. - - - - -XV - - -On the 27th of August we started out for our second trip, by rail this -time, looking quite conventional and civilized. The Mother and the -Elder Babe accompanied us as far as Thun. - -From Interlaken to Thun we took the lake steamer. It is a pretty enough -trip, but everybody does it, and the presence of a swarming ant-hill -of tourists somehow spoils the pleasure of the Nature-lover, while -affording amusement to the specialist in humanity. - -We watched many of our fellow-passengers with more or less interest, -but of them all there lingers in my memory only the old gentleman with -the Santa Claus white beard whose bare feet were encased in Greek -sandals. This with an otherwise entirely conventional get-up. We were -by no means the only ones whose attention was attracted by this devotee -of the barefoot cure. His strength of mind in braving popular curiosity -certainly deserved reward, and I hope he got it. - -At Thun there is a castle of considerable external picturesqueness, -a church effectively located, quaint streets with highly elevated -sidewalks, and shops affording ample opportunities to buy the -crumbly Thun pottery. After seeing all these things and eating our -noon sandwiches at a shady little table in what would be accurately -described, I suppose, as a beer garden, whence we had a fine view of a -passing regiment of artillery, we started the Mother and Babe on their -way back to Grindelwald and ourselves boarded a third-class carriage in -the train for Berne. - -The brief journey thither was without incident save for the time when -our compartment was snared by two billing and cooing young persons -whose aggressively new clothes as well as their demonstrative affection -proclaimed them a bride and groom. Perhaps it was because we were -foreigners or perhaps only because they were so conscious of being -legally and properly married that they took no more account of our -presence than if we had been signposts. - -At Berne we resolved to lodge at a temperance hotel we had heard of, -our idea being that it would be cheap and that the temperance feature -guaranteed respectability. The experiment was reasonably satisfactory, -but not brilliantly so. - -Frater called Berne a toy city. The phrase is happy. One feels oneself -in the world of Noah’s ark. The foolish painted fountains one meets -on every hand, above all the one with the ogre devouring the babies, -are surely intended for children and not for grown-ups. And it cannot -be conceived that any but children should take in a spirit of serious -admiration the mechanical toy which dwells in the famous clock tower, -where once an hour Father Time inverts his glass and the giants strike -on the drum, and at noon the procession of Apostles appears from one -open-snapping door above the clock and disappears jerkily into another. -It is an elaborated cuckoo clock on a large scale. And surely the -cuckoo clock also is for children. - -Our good star led us to the cathedral late that afternoon just as a -violin and vocal rehearsal was being held. We had the big dim Gothic -church all to ourselves, and out of the choir-loft, from sources -invisible, floated a woman’s voice and the pure tones of a violin. That -was one of the perfect hours that Chance sometimes fashions for us -better than any Epicurean foresight could have planned. - -There followed a walk through the town past the bear pits (more of -the provisions for childhood’s amusement surely?) to a height called -the Schänzli, just above the river, where we dined pleasantly at an -out-door table with Berne at our feet, a long stretch of fertile -country on the other side, and the white-capped Bernese Alps we had -just left fringing the horizon. After the sunset tints faded away we -had the stars and the lights of the city till we got tired and returned -to our temperance hotel and the slumbers of the night. - -Next morning we visited the federal buildings, old Rathhaus and several -parks and view points, all of very moderate interest, and took a train -about ten o’clock for Freiburg. Here we made our way to the Cathedral -to find out at what time the organ recital was due, and discovered, to -our great disgust, that this was the one day in the week when there -wasn’t any! We had lunch at another open-air restaurant, looked at two -or three things that Baedeker advised us to and took a walk across the -river to see the picturesque remains of the city’s medieval walls and -towers, whereby we just missed our train and had to take a limited an -hour later. We never, except by accident like this, traveled first -class in Switzerland, where even the third is perfectly clean and -comfortable,—far more so than second in Italy or southern France. - -Freiburg is on the line between French and German Switzerland, and its -inhabitants, so far as our experience went, seemed to be all bilingual. - -Somewhere on this trip we were supposed to get our first glimpse of -Mont Blanc, but we didn’t. - -Arrived at Lausanne, we walked and walked and walked, looking for a -place to lodge. Frater had been feeling badly all day and was utterly -miserable by now, and we seemed to have wandered completely out of the -hotel region. I do not remember whether some one directed us to the -house we finally reached or whether a sign in the window proclaimed -that furnished rooms were let. Anyhow we found two vacant, reasonably -habitable rooms, and, under the circumstances, took them. They were not -especially attractive, but there was really nothing tangible, as I look -back at it, to indicate that the place was not perfectly respectable, -and I am at a loss to say why we were all so firmly convinced that it -was not. Possibly it was the undisguised astonishment with which the -maid-servant regarded us. Possibly.... No, I can’t define it. But I -know we were all on pins and needles till we got away next morning, and -the way Belle Soeur and I barricaded our door that night was a caution! - -Nothing, however, in the least degree exciting occurred—not even an -attempt to over-charge us! Frater went to bed supperless with his -bilious attack, which worried me greatly for fear it might be oncoming -typhoid, due to the wayside water he had drunk, when he and Antonio -were living on dry bread between Zermatt and Leuk Susten. But it wasn’t. - -Belle Soeur, Antonio and I started down for the lake of Geneva, -stopping by the way at a baker’s and a delicatessen shop to lay in the -wherewithal for a picnic supper. We chartered a row-boat and went out -on the lake. It was just past sunset and utterly lovely. We ate our -supper and decided we would stay out there a very long time. But pretty -soon it got quite rough and choppy, and our light went out, and we -found we hadn’t any matches. We made one or two unsuccessful attempts -to get some from another boat. Then we began to wonder how poor Frater -was faring all alone up there in that place we didn’t like. So we gave -it up and paddled ashore and went home. - -Next morning, Frater was better, though not quite gay. We got our -coffee at a near-by restaurant and visited the castle and the somewhat -barren Gothic church, turned Calvinist, and saw a statue of that -doubtless gallant, but very injudicious local martyr of patriotism, -Major Davos, who tried to free poor Vaud from the grip of Berne before -the time was ripe for it, and succeeded only in losing his own life. - -We took an inclined railroad that plunged us suddenly to the lake-side -again. Here, with a lot of other human cattle, we boarded a lake -steamer and set forth for Geneva. It was on this day, from the water, -that we got our first view of Mont Blanc, a very faint and distant one. - -The steamer stopped at several places on the southern (French) coast -of the lake, and though we did not go ashore, Belle Soeur and I went -through the form of introducing the young men to the Pleasant Land of -France. - -There was a little company of Italian musicians on board who seemed to -please Antonio in a gently melancholy fashion. Antonio was suffering -that day from a slight attack of homesickness. - -In the early afternoon we landed at the quay in Geneva and were -immediately shanghaied. It was really funny, and turned out extremely -well. - -We were still hard-jammed in the steamer crowd and barely off the -gang-plank, when a stout, motherly-looking, middle-aged woman asked me -in German whether we were strangers, and if so, where we were going to -lodge? I thought she had just come ashore with us and supposed she -was a guileless stranger and didn’t know where to go. So I told her -in my labored German that we also were strangers and to our infinite -regret were unable to offer her any advice. But _that_ wasn’t what she -wanted, and she buzzed on hopefully till by and by I got it through -my head that she had two furnished rooms she’d like to rent us and -that they were wonderfully clean and pleasant and home-like, and the -location central, and she would serve us breakfast and charge us only -three francs apiece for it and lodging, and we would really have great -difficulty in finding anything else so desirable at anything like the -price. - -Sandwiched in with all this was a large amount of family history. They -were Germans from some Rhine town and had only been in Geneva a few -months. Her husband had come here to work. She could not get used to -it. Neither could she speak French, but she had a daughter who spoke it -very nicely. When her rooms became vacant, she went down to the pier -and watched the people come ashore from the boat and spoke to some one -who looked likely to understand German. She nearly always guessed -right, and they had had _such_ nice people in their rooms! Some such -charming Americans! Were _we_ by any chance Americans? Ah, she had -thought so as soon as she saw us. She seldom made a mistake. - -I told her at first automatically, as a matter of course, that we did -not want her rooms, but she was not easily discouraged and prattled -artlessly on. Her apartment was very near. It could do us no harm to -_look_ at the rooms. We were nowise bound to take them. - -After all, this was quite true, and though we had a number of -addresses, we had no special reason for going to any of them. She had -as honest a face as one could need to see. We had stayed at plenty of -places about which we knew absolutely nothing. We did not know less -about this good woman’s rooms. Clearly, we risked nothing by going -with her. So off we went, her babble of personal and professional -reminiscences running on like a brook. - -The apartment was in a house not especially attractive from the -outside, but once we got within and saw its resplendent cleanliness -and almost luxury of furnishing, we knew we should search no farther. - -Geneva is what is known as a handsome city. It is clean and modern -and tries to be like Paris. It has good hotels and shops and parks -and quays and drives and public monuments. We spent that afternoon -shopping and sight-seeing, took dinner at an open-air restaurant in the -Jardin Anglais, attended an organ recital at the cathedral, which was -considerably marred by the non-working of the blowing apparatus, and -decided as we walked home that we would have had all we cared for of -Geneva by 2 P. M. the following day. - -I remember the gentle irony of the pretty waitress at the restaurant in -the Jardin Anglais. Frater, who was still feeling under the weather, -ordered two soft-boiled eggs and a cup of hot milk. Antonio, who -always manifested homesickness by mortification of the flesh, gave an -almost equally simple order and said he would drink _water_. He had -read somewhere that Geneva city water was safe. Belle Soeur and I, who -were hungry and _not_ homesick, ordered a substantial meal and a small -bottle of red wine. Having written this all down, the waitress turned -to Antonio and inquired with a demure smile whether the gentleman who -drank water would have it _hot_ or _plain_? - -The next morning our landlady brought us a breakfast that was fit for -the gods. The _café-au-lait_ was excellent, the little rolls delicious, -the fresh butter pats exquisite, and the honey—where shall I find words -to describe its perfection? We all did well at that breakfast, but the -two boys, who had dined so frugally the night before, appeared to be -hollow to their toes. Like magic melted out of sight the heaping plate -of rolls, the great pots of coffee and milk, the dainty pats of butter, -and only a trace in the bottom was left of the pint jar of honey. -Really, it was shocking. - -Later, Belle Soeur, Antonio and I, being in the sitting-room, heard -strange sounds of blind man’s buff and overturned chairs issuing -from the boys’ bedroom. Presently out rushed Frater with an anxious -hunted look, closely followed by the daughter of the house, who, her -face swollen with tooth-ache and tied up in a handkerchief, was not -at the moment of great personal attractiveness. “She wants to tell -me something!” groaned Frater. “For heaven’s sake, find out what it -is!” Apparently she had felt that her message was of a confidential -nature and should be communicated at close range, and Frater, who is -shy—at _times_—had tried to keep the center-table between them, and the -strange sounds we had heard were caused by his flight and her pursuit -around and around this table till he bolted for the door. At least such -is the not very gallant explanation he gave us later. - -Balked in her desire to speak quietly to one of the gentlemen of the -party (the sterner sex being popularly supposed to be more liberal -in money matters), the young-woman-who-spoke-French got out to me -with great embarrassment her mother’s message—that she was _very_ -glad we had enjoyed the breakfast, and that she was prepared to stand -by the price she had quoted to us the day before, but that she had -really not looked forward to such wholesale consumption of honey, and -would be actually out of pocket unless we would be willing to pay her -twenty-five centimes (five cents) apiece more. Of course if we didn’t -think it right——But we _did_, and so assured her! - -That morning we called on some friends, a retired Rear Admiral and his -family, at one of the hotels, and had the novel sensation of talking -“American” for an hour or more, declined their invitation to lunch, got -our letters and a hamper of clothes from the post-office, shifted into -mountaineering costume again and returned our traveling outfit by the -convenient mail to Grindelwald. - -Belle Soeur and Antonio had noticed the day before the bill-of-fare -of a restaurant outside its door, the prices of which had struck them -as the most phenomenally low they had ever seen, and the place looked -clean and respectable. It was on the other side of the river, on the -way to the train we were to take for Chamonix. So we resolved to get -our luncheon there. - -It was not till we were inside and giving our order that we woke up to -the fact that it was a charitable institution—a sort of soup-kitchen -financially backed by a committee of ladies. A quick vote taken -showed that we declined to beat a retreat at that late date, so we -had a remarkably fine lunch, thanks to the charitable ladies, at the -interesting price of ten cents apiece. It included roast beef (a -big, tender, juicy slice), five cents, mashed potatoes, two cents, -bread, one cent, and seltzer water, two cents. We were later than the -conventional lunch hour and had the place to ourselves, so could not -judge who or what its usual patrons were; but evidently _we_ were -_raras aves_, to judge by the stir and amusement we created among the -employees. - - - - -XVI - - -There was nothing very scenically interesting about the trip from -Geneva to Chamonix. So far as I remember, we played cards all the way. -A certain thrill of emotion was experienced as we passed over the -French border. The boys felt it because it was the first time, Belle -Soeur and I because we were back again! The baggy red trousers of the -soldiers of the line loafing about the station—Heavens, how natural -they looked! Frater called them bloomers, but that was irreverent of -him. - -Chamonix reminded us of Zermatt for being big and full of tourists, -and, as at Zermatt, we yearned to get out of the village. We went to a -hotel mentioned by Baedeker well up on the hillside, which must have -a fine view of Mont Blanc and the neighboring peaks when the weather -permitted. Just then, low-lying clouds shut them all out. - -It was an attractive place, surrounded by a garden, rather more -sophisticated than the hotels we generally frequented. But being late -in the season, they gave us beautiful front rooms at very moderate -pension rates. - -We laid our plans for an all-day’s excursion on the morrow and were -very much disgusted when we woke up to find it raining. We loafed -around the house rather disconsolately all the morning, writing letters -and playing cards. - -After lunch it had stopped raining, though the sky was still overcast. -So we curtailed our intended expedition and started out. We betook -ourselves to a spot called Montanvert overhanging the Mer de Glace, -adorned, of course, by a restaurant, where we had tea and Belle Soeur -bought a pair of woolen socks. She was weak on nails in her soles, -and the socks, put on over her shoes, were to take their place while -crossing the glacier. - -[Illustration: _Mont Blanc, Glacier des Bossons_] - -There were streams of tourists here coming and going and quantities of -guides anxious to take us across, but we assured them that we had had -large experience in glaciers and needed no assistance. A timid-looking -bearded German overheard us thus assuring the last offering guide -and decided to combine safety and economy by following us. He said no -word of thanks, explanation or apology, but constituted himself our -shadow. Also, by the grace of God, he came through alive. - -The crossing of the Mer de Glace is hummocky and requires climbing. It -is also slippery. But there is no danger involved of anything worse -than sitting down hard. The continuous procession of tourists passing -over makes losing one’s way quite out of the question, and the function -of the guide is only to lend a steadying hand to the aged and infirm -or to persons unsuitably dressed for scrambling. There is nothing at -all about the Mer de Glace to justify its reputation. It is simply an -average characteristic sort of glacier, very accessible to the general -tourist, and safe and easy to walk across. - -The path on the other side, after running along the ridge of the -lateral moraine for a little distance, takes one down the famous -“Mauvais Pas.” It may have been “bad” at some prehistoric time, though -the vertical distance involved is so small (perhaps a hundred and -fifty feet to the surface of the glacier) that it can never have been -_very_ desperate. But now there are nice steps cut out in the rock -and an iron hand-rail let into the cliff to hold on by, and really -no one but a cripple, an old lady or a young child could find it -dangerous. Nevertheless, the French dramatic instinct has not failed -to take advantage of its traditional terrors. Two little boxes for the -poor are attached to the rock at the beginning and end of the “Pas” -with a request that the traveler express his gratitude to God for his -preservation by alms-giving. The whole thing was so delightfully Latin -and characteristic that we stopped and contributed. - -It was a long way down through the woods and home, and we quickened our -steps till we were almost running the last mile or two, for we had a -strong interest in dinner and we knew that we were late. - -The next morning it was raining again! This was disgusting. We decided, -however, that as it had stopped about noon the day before, perhaps it -would do so this time. So we ordered our luncheon put up and started -out on the Mont Blanc trail. Besides, I wanted to try the exercise and -fresh air cure on a cold I was catching. The microbe had established -itself in my throat the morning previous, when I was sitting on the -balcony outside my window, waiting for it to stop raining. An old -gentleman sitting on _his_ balcony directly overhead was sneezing and -sneezing with great violence. In the midst of so much fresh air, it -did not occur to me to think of infection, till all at once I felt a -raw scratchiness in the mucous membrane of my throat, and I knew that -the “invasion” had taken place. I tried to drive the beast out with -listerine, but unfortunately there was only a spoonful left in the -bottle. So then I tried the mountain air. It was my misfortune that it -could be had just then only in combination with rain. - -It is only just to say that this explanation of the origin of my cold -was not accepted by my companions, who preferred to lay it on the -weather. But they were all able to bear witness later to the highly -contagious nature of the malady. Personally, I was and am convinced -that my three months of out-door life in all weathers had seasoned me -beyond any peradventure of catching cold because my shoes were damp. - -It was only drizzly, for the most part. When a hard downpour came, -we stopped and took shelter under a shed or dense-leafed tree. Some -distance up the mountain-side, but still within the tree belt, we came -upon a lonely little refreshment hut, where we stopped and ordered -coffee and hot milk to go with our cold lunch from the hotel. It was -raining pretty hard just then, and we spread out our lunch hour as -long as possible, keeping up each other’s spirits by a very conscious, -but reasonably successful effort. Evidently it looked all right from -the outside at least, for when we came to go, the proprietress of the -châlet, a sad-eyed little Frenchwoman, begged us almost with tears to -stay longer,—not to feel that we must order anything more either, but -just to stay and not go out in the rain. She would _love_ to have us -stay, we were young and had _le cœur gai_, and it did her good to look -at us and listen to us, although she could not understand what we were -saying! - -However, though thanking her for her tribute to our gay hearts and -not ungrateful (I at least) for that incidental tribute to our -extreme youth, we decided it was time to move and pushed on up the -mountain-side. After half an hour or more we passed the more elaborate -Pavilion de la Pierre Pointue, and then all at once found ourselves on -the brink of the Glacier des Bossons. - -I do not know whether on a clear day it would have seemed so enormous, -so awe-inspiring. The rain had turned into snow drifting lazily down on -us. The clouds were all around, above, below. Out of the clouds above -flowed that huge ice-mass,—vast, measureless, tossed like waves of the -sea suddenly frozen. Down below us the clouds swallowed it again. What -we saw was gigantic. Who could tell how much more there might be hidden -in the clouds? The Pavilion was lost behind a corner of rocks. It might -have been a thousand miles away, and any other trace of humanity as -well, for aught that we could see. We seemed to be in the very heart of -Nature—huge, untrammeled, primordial. - -The cold and the increasing thickness of the snow-storm drove us down, -but it was glorious while it lasted. - -The next morning at breakfast we observed for the last time the amiable -manners of the young Frenchman with the downy moustache who always -kissed his father, mother and two sisters on the forehead before -sitting down to his coffee, and admired once more the embroidered -napkin-covers of the English family. Then we asked for our bill. The -sun was really out that morning and the clouds looked as if they might -lift, but we did not feel that we could stay longer in Chamonix. -Antonio’s time in Switzerland was growing very limited, and we must -give him a few days to rest at the Châlet Edelweiss before starting on -the homeward journey. - -The amiable French proprietress blandly presented us with a bill about -twice the size agreed upon. Then followed heavy weather. If there is -anything under heaven I hate, it is an altercation over a bill, but my -three companions stood expectantly beside me, and I _can_ be voluble -in French when I have to be. So I girded up my loins and did my duty. -Back and forth we hurled the language, up and down we shrugged our -shoulders, using hands and eye-brows to intensify our effects. She was -much bigger than I, and her voice was louder. Also she had doubtless -had more practice. But the Three stood firm behind me to block retreat, -and the consciousness of being in the right presumably buoyed me up. - -All at once, without the slightest warning of an approaching change of -front, the proprietress dropped her blustering voice, yielded the point -at issue with an incredible gracefulness, made out the bill anew in the -way it ought to be, and devoted the last few minutes of our stay to -making an agreeable impression. The clouds were lifting. Ah, we should -have a view of Mont Blanc before we left! Quick, François, bring the -big telescope and have it all ready. Ah—ah—joy! There go the clouds! -There at last is Mont Blanc! - -There it was, and we were very glad we did not have to leave Chamonix -without seeing it. But aside from this academic satisfaction, Mont -Blanc is very disappointing,—a wide, rounded excrescence on a long -mountain range, hardly any higher apparently than the surrounding -peaks, some of which are infinitely more picturesque in form. In fact, -the dominating feature of the Chamonix scenery is not that broad lumpy -saddle-back of Mont Blanc, but the serrated rows of needle peaks called -Aiguilles rising black above the snow, uptilted rock-strata worn away -by erosion, the most spectacular objects, except the Matterhorn, in all -the Alps. - -A party who had ascended Mont Blanc the day of our arrival, before -the rain came on, and had been imprisoned at the summit ever since, -were taking advantage of this first clearing to get down. Through the -telescope we could see them plainly—little moving black specks on the -snow field, descending towards the Grands Mulets. - -We left them presently, Madame and François and the rest of the hotel -staff in a perfect ferment of amiability and politeness, and walked up -the valley to Argentière, then, sharply turning to the left, followed -the diligence road over the Tête Noire. - - - - -XVII - - -Going over the Tête Noire is another of the things that everybody does, -and like most things that are so easy, hardly worth while. I do not -mean that there is no good scenery on the road, but there is nothing -that quickens the pulse or sets one to breathing deep. - -Perhaps I may do less than justice to the Tête Noire road because of -my bodily sensations while passing over it. I certainly was not happy -that day. The beast in my throat had downed me. I had a headache and a -fever, a cold in the head, and an unpleasant sense of collapsibility in -the legs. - -Every few miles I stopped at some wayside inn or refreshment booth and -ordered a liqueur glass of kirsch (which is a local form of liquid -fire) and a few lumps of sugar, and, by dipping the sugar in the -nostrum, was able little by little to absorb its fieriness, whereby the -legs afore-mentioned acquired an artificial stiffening that carried -them a few miles farther. - -Antonio was greatly distressed at this immoral method by which I -kept going. I think he had visions of my becoming a dipsomaniac in -consequence of that day’s tippling. If he had only known how unpleasant -the kirsch was, he would have been less alarmed. - -The day passed somehow. There were showers here and there to add to -the rawness of my throat. We passed back into Switzerland about noon. -At dinner-time we began arriving at Martignys. There are an indefinite -number of them spread out for miles—old town, new town, and railroad -station. The last named was our destination. After dinner at the Hotel -de la Gare (a function in which I was not personally interested, though -I took another kirsch), we boarded a crowded train for Sion. I have -seldom been so glad to get anywhere as I was to get to bed in the Sion -hotel that night. I was sorry for poor Belle Soeur having to share my -room, for I was well aware of the infectious character of the microbe -I was harboring, but as they had no more vacant ones (or said they -hadn’t), there seemed to be no help for it. - -The next day I felt worse. Belle Soeur nobly offered to stay with me -at Sion till I got well and let the boys continue the trip without us. -But I did not want to break up the party, and knowing I was bound to be -miserable that day _anywhere_, decided it might as well be on the road. -So Frater filled his pocket flask with kirsch instead of cognac, and -off we started over the Rawyl. - -Now, the Rawyl is one of the least traveled passes in Switzerland. -Baedeker, who takes it in the reverse direction from ours, gives a very -inadequate description of the path, and says it takes ten and a half -hours from Lenk to Sion, and that a guide is desirable. We ought to -have taken warning from that ten and a half hours, for Baedeker’s times -allow for no stops and assume a pretty swinging gait. But we wanted to -go home that way, and we trusted to luck. - -We did not get such an early start as we intended, and we took the -wrong road out of Sion and walked an extra mile or so before we got -set right. Those of us who had been brave enough to dig through the -Swiss histories were mildly interested in the roofless, windowless, -grinning skulls of castles that crowned the hill-tops over the town, -the Bishop’s and the Baron’s. They used to have such lively times in -Sion between their two sets of tyrants! - -As always, it was sizzling hot in the Rhone valley, and we were glad as -our road lifted us out of it. We went through a fine fruit belt as we -rose, and I regret to say we plucked a plum or a pear or an apple quite -frequently as we walked along. - -At Ayent, about half-past ten, we came to what we knew was the last -settlement. Here we fortified ourselves with a second _café-au-lait_, -and laid in a stock of bread, sweet chocolate and hard-boiled eggs. -Then we turned our backs on civilization and went on. We knew we had to -leave the wagon road soon, but were in great doubt where, till a very -intelligent peasant came along who gave us directions we could really -follow. He also told us that we were two days’ journey from Lenk—which -hardly sounded encouraging. - -That day seemed to me about a hundred years long. Would there never be -an end to this picking up of one foot and setting down of the other? -And I had to keep _pushing_ the old things so to make them move! No -wonder I was tired. My head weighed about a ton, and had a red-hot and -very tight iron band around it. And every bone in my body ached. Oh, -_bless_ the old man at Chamonix! At Ayent I had happened to look in -a glass that hung on the dining-room wall, and the reflection I saw -fairly frightened me for its ugliness. Did that shiny red nose, those -bleary red eyes, that blotchy red face really belong to _me_? - -By lunch-time we were among the high pastures and had opened up a -pretty broad view of the Valais mountains, our old friends around -Zermatt on the other side of the Rhone. We came upon a spring which had -been piped to a trough for the cattle, and, as we were very thirsty, -thought we would risk drinking from it, when, fortunately, we looked -closer and saw the water was alive with long squirming hair-thin eels! -They were the most uncanny-looking beasts I almost ever saw. Antonio -suggested picking them out, as they were extremely visible, and -drinking the expurgated water, but somebody objected that the water -must be full of their eggs and that it would be so unpleasant to have -them hatch—afterwards. So we ate our chocolate and hard-boiled eggs and -bread, and kept our thirst for future reference. - -We felt that we must surely come upon the cattle pretty soon and that -then we could buy some milk. The afternoon was half gone, however, -before we saw a trace of anything alive, and then it was a very small -boy leading a pig way off in the distance. We hailed him and with some -difficulty made him understand that we wanted to buy milk. The patois -of that region is a fearful and wonderful thing. He agreed to lead us -to the cow châlets, but as it was away from our path, and seemed very, -very far, we were several times on the point of giving up the quest. -However, he kept encouraging us, assuring us we were nearly there, -and finally emerging over a grassy shoulder, we came upon the herd of -several hundred cows in a sort of pocket. - -It was the milking hour, and we could not have struck it better for -our wants. The head-man, or Senn, I suppose, escorted us up to the -cheese-hut and gave us stools to sit on, while he ladled out foamy warm -milk from a bucket in a half gourd and passed it first to one and then -another, apologizing for his lack of conveniences. Imagine a dozen men -living up there for four months on end with never a cup or a bowl or a -ladle among them except this solitary gourd! - -There were two huge iron caldrons under which fires were burning and -into which the men poured their buckets of milk as they brought them -in. This was to make cheese. We asked them to sell us some, but they -said they were not allowed to. They gave us, however, a bit of the -old, last year’s cheese which they ate themselves and declined any -remuneration for it. As it was a present, it would be impolite to say -what we thought of it. - -All the men crowded into the hut and gazed at us with interest, but -only the two intelligent ones in charge did any talking. Perhaps the -others spoke only patois, but they were of the utterly stupid heavy -type I have already referred to. - -We asked about our route, and they told us it was absolutely out of -the question for us to get over the pass that day, as we were not more -than half way, and it was already four o’clock. We must pass the night -at the châlets of Nieder Rawyl, the last pastures on this side of the -summit. Would the people there give us shelter, I asked. The man smiled -and shrugged his shoulders. “They will have to,” he said. - -Very much refreshed by the milk and the little rest, we bade farewell -to our friends and made our way back to our path, then onward at a -quickened pace, lest darkness come upon us before we reached the huts -of Nieder Rawyl. We were getting pretty high now, and the wind that -blew down from the snow belt made us feel that a night in the open air -would not be a pleasant experience. - -For me, the last hour of walking that afternoon was a nightmare, my -head swimming with weakness and fever, my feet staggering foolishly. I -kept on because I had to. Fortunately, we had no difficult climbing to -do, nothing requiring steadiness, no precipices to skirt, just a steep, -stony path. - -About six o’clock we came in sight of a group of stone cheese -and cattle huts, which we knew must be what we were in search of. -The milking and cheese-making were just over, and a group of men -were standing in a doorway. We went up and addressed the most -intelligent-looking. Could they give us shelter for the night? The sun -had already set behind the mountains, the long shadows were falling -over the valley. It was perfectly obvious that we could not go on into -that bare region of rock and snow beyond. Very gravely and courteously -the head-man assured us that he had no way of making us comfortable, -but that what they had was at our service. - -He led us to a little one-room stone hut. It had no windows, and the -door consisted of a couple of boards to keep the cattle from straying -in, I suppose. It did not keep out the mountain wind, but as there -was no other means of ventilation, perhaps it was as well. There was -a raised stone platform to build a fire on. Our host brought us some -sticks and started them blazing and hung an iron kettle full of milk -over the fire to heat for us. He owned a granite-ware cup and a sort -of spoon whittled from a cow’s horn, which he placed at our service. -There was a long wooden bench which we drew up in front of the fire and -sat on while we made our supper of sweet chocolate and hot milk. Our -bread and eggs were gone by now. - -About half the hut was occupied by a raised wooden sleeping platform, -covered with musty-looking hay. Four greasy gray blankets were there, -too, which were put at our disposal. They were not inviting-looking, -but the bitter Alpine cold was getting into our bones, and we were in -no position to pick and choose. We did not even take our shoes off, but -each wrapping a blanket outside of whatever coats and wraps we had with -us, disposed ourselves on the hay pile and awaited slumber. Personally, -I could not have held up my head another minute if the world had been -coming to an end. But tired as I was, I could not sleep. - -Our host and another man came in and sat on the bench, heated milk -and drank it with their supper, which consisted of hunks of black -bread and strips of last year’s cheese, which they cut off with their -pocket-knives from a stone-hard slab. When they had finished eating -they still sat on the bench and kept up a desultory talk. Hours passed -and they still stayed. At last one of them lay down on the platform -by the embers of the fire and the other stretched himself out on the -bench. Whether they slept or not I cannot say, but their conversation -ceased. We had been wondering why they stayed so late, but it dawned -upon us then that, having given us their beds and blankets, they had -no place else to go. Belle Soeur and I exchanged whispered comments -still from time to time, but at last she also went to sleep. Frater and -Antonio had dropped off first of all like nice tired children. - -After this I kept vigil with the fleas. Their name was legion. I have -met this voracious animal in various parts of the world, Italy, Egypt, -California and Japan, but never in such concentrated swarms! What -between them and my headache and fever, and the place I was in, and the -company I was keeping, I did not succeed in forgetting my miseries till -daylight was appearing wanly in the doorway. - -There had been the pigs, too. It seems our hut was built on a steep -slope, and though we had entered it from the level of the ground, in -the back it had a basement. This was occupied by the pigs. And surely -those brutes must have had uneasy consciences, for all night long they -kept up the most unholy noises! There were also waves of odor from the -piggery, which surged up to us from time to time. - -Our hosts had gone out about their work when I woke up, and my -companions were starting the fire for breakfast. I did not feel -very gay, but the fever was gone and my head was very much clearer, -especially after I had bathed it in the chilly brook outside. We ate -some more chocolate and drank some more milk and were ready to set out -on our way. - -When we wished to settle for our entertainment, we found our hosts were -charging only for the milk we had consumed, and were quite dazzled by -our munificence in adding five francs for lodging. Evidently they did -not expect it in the least, and had given up their beds and blankets to -us in a spirit of true hospitality. - -One of the men offered to show us the path if we could wait about -half an hour till he finished his work, but as we had had no great -difficulty in finding the path so far, we fallaciously argued that it -would be the same the rest of the way, and declined with thanks. - -About half a mile beyond the huts the path came to an abrupt end at -the beginning of an open meadow, bounded on the far side by a wall of -rock. Somewhere beyond that meadow the path began again and led up the -rock wall into the Alpine wilderness above. But where? No scanning -by the eye could reveal it. Each of us had a different theory as to -likelihood. We crossed the meadow and skirted the base of the cliff -looking for that vanished path. - -At the extreme right, a stream tumbled down a gully in a series of -cataracts. By the near bank there had been a slide of stones and -loose earth, making a place several hundred feet in height, which, -though terrifically steep, was not, like most of the wall, absolutely -perpendicular. Above this we saw a horizontal line in the rock, which -_might_ be the path. - -Somewhat dubiously we decided to try. I never encountered anything more -discouraging than that slide of loose stones. With every step we took -upward we slid back about nine-tenths of a step. Sometimes more. And we -were never sure that we would be able to stop ourselves till we struck -bottom. The higher we went, the more precarious and crumbly it became. -We clambered on all fours. Belle Soeur and I could never have gotten up -if the boys had not helped us. Antonio dubbed it the Gutter Spout of -Heaven. I don’t know about the Heaven part, but the Gutter Spout was -all right. - -We kept encouraging each other with the nearer approach of that -horizontal line in the rocks. When at last we got there, breathless and -exhausted, we found it was _not_ a path, but merely a natural ledge. -How far it led, or whether it led _anywhere_, we did not know. - -Belle Soeur’s heart was making itself felt just then, so we had to sit -down to let her recover, and while doing so, we held a council of war. -We were about half-way up the rock wall now, and none of us wanted -to throw away all the time and labor we had put in getting there by -going back. Also, since the waterfall marked the extreme right-hand -boundary of the rock wall, the path, if it existed at all, must lie -to the left. Therefore, by following our hard-won ledge to the left, -we should cross the path,—unless indeed the ledge came to an end too -soon. At all events we decided it was worth trying, so as soon as Belle -Soeur’s heart had returned to the normal, we started. After edging our -way along the ledge in a gingerly fashion for about fifteen minutes, -our faith was rewarded, for we made out an unmistakable path zigzagging -upward, and had no further difficulty in reaching it. - -The joy of finding one’s path again is so great that I do not know but -it makes worth while having lost it! With renewed vigor we climbed -upward to the plateau-like region of snow drifts and rock ledges that -awaited us, which some ironist has named the “Plain of Roses.” We -should have had fine views of the Valais mountains but for the clouds -which enveloped them. Our immediate foreground was wild and desolate -enough, but as none of the peaks were more than two thousand feet -higher than we were, our views lacked grandeur of outline. For pure -bleak Alpine solitude, though, the walk of the next few hours was -unrivaled. - -We quenched our thirst with handfuls of snow from the virgin drifts -around us. This is said to be a bad thing to do, but we experienced no -ill effects either on this or other occasions. At noon we sat down on a -rock and ate cheese and chocolate. This was the fourth meal we had made -from this combination of foodstuffs, with the addition of milk at the -second and third, bread at the first and hard-boiled eggs at the first -and second. This time there were no accessories. None of us felt much -of a craving for either cheese or chocolate for some time thereafter. - -The summit of the pass (just under eight thousand feet) is marked by a -shelter hut and a great wooden cross, whose bare arms, stretched out -over the wilderness of rock and snow, have a singular impressiveness. -The cross marks the boundary between the cantons of Valais and Berne. - -Another hour’s walking, past a cold gray Alpine lake, brought us to the -northern edge of the plateau, where the green and fertile Simmenthal -lay spread out at our feet between the piled-up Bernese mountains. - -Our path plunged down steeply now, and about three o’clock we reached -the outpost of civilization, what Baedeker calls a rustic inn—at -Iffigen Alp. We asked with lively interest what they had to eat and -found they had neither meat nor eggs. What _did_ they have, then? -Coffee, milk, bread, butter, honey and cheese. - -We balked at the last-named, but ordered a large supply of everything -else. As soon as the maid brought it in, we told her to begin getting -ready a second installment just as large. And how we did eat! Was -_ever_ anything so good as that bread and butter and honey, except the -long drafts of _café-au-lait_ that washed it down? - -All day long my health had been improving and my cold disappearing, and -this ambrosial meal seemed to complete the cure. We asked for soap, -water and towels, combed our hair before a looking-glass, put on clean -collars, and looked so respectable that we hardly knew each other. For -myself, I felt as if I had just returned to life and the joy of it from -a most unpleasant dream. The treatment I had given my influenza had -been heroic,—a sort of kill-or-cure. But it had happened to cure, and -in a phenomenally short time. The rest of the family, who took their -share comfortably at home, also took longer to get over it. - -Greatly refreshed, we left the “rustic inn” of blessed memory and swung -happily down the path past the pretty Iffigen waterfalls. We soon -found ourselves on a wagon-road which led us in the course of a few -miles to Lenk, a village of considerable size with thermal springs and -the attendant hotels and health-seekers. The specialty here is throat -and nose trouble. - -We spent the night at Lenk and in the morning walked the eight and a -half miles down the valley to Zweisimmen. - -[Illustration: _Bach Lake_ (_Faulhorn Route_)] - -The Simmenthal is famous for its cattle, and as we happened to have -struck the day on which they were coming home from the high pastures, -the whole eight and a half miles was through a procession of moist -milky cattle. Sometimes they filled the road so that it required -ingenuity to get past. They were big, handsome, sleek creatures, and -seemed to be perfectly gentle. - -The Rawyl wilderness separates not only the two cantons, but the two -languages as with a sharp knife. There is no lapping over at the edges. -The herdsmen at Nieder Rawyl spoke French, but no German, and the -waitress at Iffigen Alp spoke German and never a word of French. - -Zweisimmen is the railway terminus. Here we took train to Spiez, and -hence to Interlaken and home in the usual manner. - -Thus ended the second trip. - - - - -XVIII - - -The next eight days we consecrated, none too joyously, to the -influenza. Frater and Belle Soeur came down with it almost immediately -and simultaneously and were put in quarantine. We were determined, if -possible, to protect the Mother from contagion, as a cold is a long -and serious matter with her. So the two invalids were shut up in the -dining-room with books and easy-chairs and a cribbage-board and had -their meals served there till they emerged from the fever and sneezing -stage. Just as they were convalescent, the two Babes and the domestic -staff got it, but in a very light form. Then Antonio, who had been -boasting of his immunity, succumbed and had to postpone his intended -departure. At last everybody emerged triumphant from quarantine. And it -had been successful. The Mother escaped contagion. - -Antonio was to leave for Paris, Liverpool and New York next day, the -14th of September, and we were all very sad at the thought of the -first break in our happy family. Also we wanted to make the most of -the remaining time, so (it sounds singularly idiotic written down in -black and white after this lapse of sobering time) we sat up all night! -The Mother retired about midnight. Frater had already done so, but we -decided he had better get up. - -Then followed an interesting “rough-house” in which the young men took -the star rôles and Belle Soeur and I acted as chorus. It would be -difficult to give an adequate history of the night, but it involved -an exciting amount of lockings out and lockings in, climbing to the -second-story balcony, and the smashing of a kitchen window by a group -of “outs” who wished to be in. This brought Anna and Suzanne to their -windows above in great excitement, followed by some disgust when they -learned it was only “_Les Messieurs qui s’amusent_.” - -Between three and four we invaded the kitchen and made coffee and -ate up the cake on hand. Then we played cards till breakfast time. -Subsequently, most of those concerned took a nap. The housekeeper and -mother of a family, however, was unable to. - -Belle Soeur also was unable to slumber long, as she had promised to -produce a birthday cake before noon. For this same day which was to -witness the flitting of Antonio was further made notable as the eighth -anniversary of the appearance on this mundane stage of the Elder Babe. -It had been arranged that the birthday feast, including ice-cream -from the village confectioner’s and the birthday cake with its eight -candles, was to occur at midday, so that Antonio might take part in it. - -It was not a wonderfully gay little party, though we strove to make -it so, for we all felt that this was the beginning of the end of a -fairy-story summer, the breaking up of our little band of Arcadians. - -It was raining in doleful sympathy as we walked down to the station -with the departing Antonio and stood on the platform watching the -chunky little train that bore him away to the every-day workaday world -outside of Switzerland. - -We missed him very much. The “tropical bird,” as we had occasionally -called him, had certainly brought an element of color and brilliancy -into our gray Anglo-Saxon lives. - -The next day we had a diversion in the shape of an entirely unexpected -call from an American friend, who stayed to dinner and spent the -evening with us, but flitted away by an early train the following -morning. - -It was a very blue and brilliant morning (the rainclouds all dissolved -and scattered), and we set forth on the Elder Babe’s real birthday -party, which the weather and Antonio’s departure had made impossible on -the day itself. It was to be a glacier party and involve a guide and -roping! - -We picked out the guide haphazard from the little group we passed just -before reaching the Upper Glacier. He was a heavily-bearded, short, but -powerfully built man of between forty-five and fifty, and his name was -Fritz Biner. We were destined to know him much better a little later. - -The Mother started out with us, but decided she was not equal to -the trip, so we left her with her share of the lunch at the Châlet -Milchbach on the lateral moraine, from the veranda of which she could -watch our progress. - -We turned over the small boy to the special care of the guide, who -fastened their two waists together with his rope. Then, for nearly a -thousand feet, we scrambled up the right bank of the glacier, with -the occasional aid of ladders fastened to the rock, till we reached -the level part above the ice-fall, where the trail crosses to the -Gleckstein Club hut and the summit of the Wetterhorn. Here, on the edge -of the glacier, we sat down and ate our luncheon. - -Then we were all roped together and proceeded to the opposite side of -the hummocky, but not perilous, glacier, whence, leaving the trail to -the summit, we followed a narrow goat path on a horizontal ledge of -the Wetterhorn cliff known as the Enge. It was nothing that presented -any terrors to the older members of the party, who by this time had -their heads pretty well seasoned against dizziness, but it would have -made the writer extremely nervous to conduct her small son along such a -ledge, in view of the (probably) thousand-foot drop at our left, had -he not been securely roped fore and aft. - -The young person in question, though enjoying himself greatly, was -clearly troubled by a little doubt whether this highly delectable -roping had not been gotten up as part of the stage-setting to amuse -_him_ and not because it was necessary. He had imbibed a fine scorn -for the tourists who rope themselves to a guide while ascending the -pleasant path to the Châlet Milchbach, just so as to say they have done -it, and he clearly did not wish to belong to any such tribe himself. -However, when we had gotten almost to the end of the ledge and were -just about to unfasten the ropes, the sheer drop beneath us having -decreased to perhaps fifty feet, the Babe, growing careless, twisted -his feet somehow, slipped and slid straight out in the air and was -brought up sharply by the rope. This happy incident removed all doubt -from his mind and persuaded him, as nothing else could have done, that -the roping had been a genuine mountaineering necessity! - -Down among the grassy pastures at the end of the Enge we found the -Mother waiting for us (who fortunately for her peace of mind had _not_ -seen the falling incident), and the united family tramped home together -in great content. - -Not, however, till we had made a partial engagement with Fritz Biner. -We asked him whether the end of the following week would be too late in -the season to go over the Strahlegg; for we had developed an ambition -to wind up our last long pedestrian trip, which we were about to start -on, with a bit of genuine mountaineering. He assured us it would not -be and expressed a desire to act as our guide. We politely voiced the -pleasure it would give us to have him, but indicated that it would -seem simpler to take a guide from the Grimsel than to have him come -over to meet us there. He replied justly that if a Grimsel guide -should accompany us to Grindelwald, he would have to go back again, -which would be just as far as for him to go over after us. He further -suggested that at the Grimsel they would decline to take us over -without two guides, or at all events a guide and a porter, whereas he, -having seen what expert climbers we were (!), would gladly undertake -to bring us over single-handed. This argument appealed to us, though -we left the matter open that day in order to make inquiries concerning -Biner’s reputation. The result being favorable, we arranged to -telegraph him from Andermatt what day he was to meet us at the Grimsel. - - - - -XIX - - -Two days later, we were once more on the road, Frater, Belle Soeur -and I. We were going up over the Faulhorn to Lake Brienz on the other -side, and just because it was so easy to step out of our back door and -start up the slope and we had no prick of a train to catch, we lingered -around over last words and last preparations a good hour longer than -we should have done. And for some reason that day we did not walk with -our usual snap. So we reached the summit at tea-time instead of at -lunch-time. - -It had been a very beautiful trip up, with the Grindelwald valley -sinking lower and lower, and the white peaks behind the Eiger and -Wetterhorn opening up more and more. The Schreckhörner are wonderfully -impressive from this view and the Finsteraarhorn attains nearly the -majesty that belongs to it. The early part of the way the prospect is -framed by the fir trees through which one looks. Above the tree belt -the foreground is still by no means lacking in picturesque incidents, -chief among which are the cold round little Bach lake and the jagged -Röthihorn and Simelihorn peaks. - -On the summit, which is nearly nine thousand feet high, there is a very -solid little stone hotel constructed to withstand the terrible storms -which sweep over so exposed a spot. Toward Lake Brienz the drop is very -steep,—almost precipitate at first. One looks way over to Lake Lucerne, -Pilatus and Rigi. But when we came there that region was covered with -fleecy white clouds, which looked like a great churned-up foamy lake, -with little mountain-peak islands rising above it here and there. The -effect was singularly beautiful—much more so than any topographic -clearness could have been. - -As we drank our tea and enjoyed the view, we made inquiries of the -proprietor as to our path downward to Giessbach on Lake Brienz. He -tried to dissuade us from attempting it, saying the path was long, -rough, and hard to find, and we could not possibly get there before -dark. He said that professional delicacy prevented his urging us to -remain where we were over-night, which would obviously be the most -sensible thing to do, so he would suggest our going to the Schynige -Platte, where we _could_ arrive before dark and have a fine path all -the way. The Schynige Platte is an excursion place on a lower spur -of the Faulhorn ridge, connected by rack and pinion railway with -Interlaken. We had resolutely kept away from it all summer and had no -notion of visiting it now. Neither did we want to stay all night at the -Faulhorn. So we resolved to try for Giessbach and trust to luck to get -_some_ shelter if we did not make our destination. - -The proprietor disapprovingly pointed out our route as far as he could. -No one had been that way for some days, and in the meantime there had -been a heavy fall of snow, so the first part of our progress was not -rapid, as we sunk half-way to the knees at each step. - -After passing a curious rocky pinnacle like an upward-pointing finger, -which had been our first land-mark, we got rid of the snow and were -able to descend quite rapidly across a rock-strewn plain. It was here -that we heard the Whistling Marmots and marked one more of our life -ambitions achieved. - -I do not know why we had yearned so intensely all summer for whistling -marmots, but we had,—even more than for edelweiss, which is too -obvious. Baedeker has a way of mentioning them in very solitary -places like the Gries Pass or the Rawyl, but we had never met them as -scheduled. We had seen a marmot in captivity in Grindelwald, but he -was a very sad and depressed little furry beast who would never have -dreamed of whistling. But here, when we were least thinking of them, -we must have walked right into a marmot colony. We heard their little -voices calling to each other, whistling unmistakably, and saw them -scurrying to their holes among the rocks as we approached. - -We lost our trail a dozen times, but having some abandoned cheese huts -just above the woods to direct ourselves to, it did not greatly matter. - -Once among the trees, how dark it got all of a sudden! We took the -wrong path and found ourselves on the edge of nothing, retraced our -steps and started again. We were going just as fast as we could, racing -with the darkness, but we soon realized that, so far as Giessbach was -concerned, the race would be a losing one. It was so piercingly cold -that a night in the open air sounded painful, and we kept on in the -hope of finding _something_. - -Just in the last moment of twilight we emerged from the thick woods -onto a grassy shoulder upon which was an empty cow-shed. Above it was -a loft full of hay. On the ground was a ladder. Nothing was locked. -Perhaps fifteen hundred feet below us we could see the roofs of a group -of huts, which appeared to be inhabited—about such a place as Nieder -Rawyl. It was very doubtful if we could find our way down to them -through the woods, so dark had it become, and we decided that a clean -hayloft to ourselves would be better than the hospitality they could -offer anyhow. So we decided to stay. Fortunately we had ample left from -our luncheon to serve us for supper, and by skimping a bit, we could -save something for breakfast. - -We spent a long time trying to start a bonfire at which to warm -ourselves and dry our snow-wet shoes. It could have been done by -using loose boards which we saw lying around outside, but we had -conscientious scruples against making ourselves quite so much at home -(or _some_ of us had) and tried to construct the fire from brush -gathered in the woods, all of which appeared to be water-soaked. - -At last, however, Frater’s bonfire skill triumphed, and we sat down -around a cheerful little blaze and steamed out our very chilly -water-logged shoes and dress skirts and watched the moon rise over the -mountain top. Then, when sufficiently warm, dry and sleepy, we climbed -up the ladder into the loft, buried ourselves deep in the hay, and were -soon lost to consciousness. - -Anybody who has a lingering idea that there is something poetic in -sleeping among the fragrant hay of a loft, had better revise his views. -It is distinctly tickly and scratchy and full of dust. And the rats run -in and out. However, it is clean and warm, and if you’re tired enough, -it will serve. - -In the early gloaming we were awakened by voices outside. Two men were -circumnavigating our hut engaged in earnest discussion. Probably they -belonged in the huts below, had seen our bonfire the night before and -had come up to find out what damage had been done. Being satisfied on -this point, they departed. The ladder was standing against the side of -the barn where the loft door was and Belle Soeur’s alpenstock was lying -on the ground below, so they must have known we were still there, but -they did nothing to disturb us. Meanwhile we, having nothing to gain -by an interview, lay low and held our peace. Each of us thought that -the other two were asleep and he or she was the only moral coward, -but we found later that we were three of a kind! Really, though, the -consciousness of being a trespasser _does_ put one at a disadvantage, -and the inability to communicate freely with a patois-speaking -peasantry increases the handicap. - -After our involuntary hosts had taken themselves away, we emerged from -our several nests and picked the wisps of hay from each other. It was -very cold and gray at that hour, and the inadequate fragments of stale -sandwiches left from the day before were not the most cheering sort -of breakfast. When we had consumed the last crumb and performed scanty -ablutions in an ice-water brook near by and left everything snug and -tight at our late lodgings, we started downward. Our muscles were -painfully stiff at first, but gradually limbered up. - -About nine o’clock we reached an outlying refreshment house overhanging -the Giessbach, whose course we had been following for some time, and -here we stopped for a belated, but much appreciated, _café-au-lait_. - -The rest of the day was, from the point of view of a trio of tramps -who had spent the night in a hayloft after forgathering with whistling -marmots, distinctly civilized and commonplace. We reached the level -of Lake Brienz and skirted it to the upper end where the Aar flows in -from the Meiringen Valley. We cut across to the Brünig Pass road and -followed the gentle grade upward, lunching late (in view of the nine -o’clock breakfast) at a roadside restaurant. - -[Illustration: _Brienz Village and Lake_] - -Not only railroad and carriages, but even automobiles go over the -Brünig, so it can be imagined that it is not strenuous climbing, nor -are its views, though attractive, grandiose. - -After leaving the summit, we fairly annihilated space, and by -dinner-time had reached the village rejoicing in the euphonious name -of Giswil. We put up at a rather comfortable inn where we seemed to be -the only guests, but the proprietor’s children appeared so incredibly -numerous that we decided he had gone into the hotel business to get -their groceries at trade rates. - -I asked the maid waiting on us at dinner what time the train left for -Lucerne in the morning. She said she wasn’t sure, and would I come down -and examine the time-table in the lower hall? It was a very large and -complex sheet, some three feet by six, but I thought I could master a -time-table—_any_ time-table. We all have our little vanities. I took -plenty of time at it and at last found the column and the correct -direction and emerged triumphant with the information that the train -left at 7.15, and accordingly gave careful directions that our coffee -was to be ready at 6.30 and we were to be called at 6. - -Things were just a trifle late next morning, and as we were not sure -of the distance to the station, we bolted our breakfast and hurried -about the paying of our bill and walked at an uncomfortably rapid gait, -arriving with just the desirable five minutes to spare, according to -our watches. To our surprise the ticket office was closed. So were the -baggage office and the freight office. There was not an employee in -sight. Were our watches wrong? Had the train already left? Even so, it -seemed incredible that the premises could have been completely deserted -so quickly. At last, having nothing else to do, I began to study the -time-tables on the walls. And then I made a discovery. The train we -were trying to take ran only on Sundays and the 12th of May, and it -wasn’t either! The regular week-day train wasn’t due for an hour. - -I wish to say that the conduct of my companions at this juncture was -truly magnanimous. The laugh was very distinctly on me, but they didn’t -laugh it. They expended all their risibility on the 12th of May. That -annual date on which our train ran seemed to tickle their funny-bones -exquisitely. They never once reproached me for the too-hastily -swallowed coffee and the precious minutes of sleep that might have -been, but wandered off to visit the cemetery or some such cheerful -spot, while I read Baedeker and kept guard over the knapsacks in the -waiting-room. - -If there _had_ been a train when we thought and we had only five -minutes before it was due, we certainly should have missed it, for I -think it took the station-master a good twenty minutes to make out our -tickets. They involved a whole ten miles of railroad travel from Giswil -to Alpnachstad, and a boat trip from there to Lucerne. The tickets -were long folding affairs in many sections, as for a trip across the -continent, filled in at many places with writing (there was also a book -in which the poor man had to write an extraordinary amount), and I -think they cost us eighteen cents apiece! - -The approach to Lucerne by boat instead of by train must be a very -pleasant one in any respectable sort of weather, but our day had turned -into a gray drizzle with a gale of freezing wind. Mists and clouds shut -out all the mountains, and the face of the lake was lashed into a -sort of impotent baby fury. It was this kind of a day, I am sure, when -Gesler had Tell unbound to take charge of the imperiled row-boat. It -was not perilous on a modern lake passenger boat, but neither was it -joyous. - -[Illustration: _Lucerne, Old Covered Bridge and Water Tower_] - - - - -XX - - -When we arrived at Lucerne nobody shanghaied us in the pleasant Geneva -way, and as it was not even lunch-time, we resolved to walk about and -explore the town before deciding where to lodge. We fed the ducks and -swans, wandered over the covered wooden bridge inspecting the quaint -old paintings of the Dance of Death, beat around through the older -part of the town, and all at once coming back to the river, beheld the -Gasthaus zu Pfistern. - -We had no sooner seen it than we recognized our fate. The wall toward -us was covered with frescoes representing a great tree spreading from -cellar to garret, from whose branches, instead of fruit, hung coats of -arms. Away up near the top in very big figures was the date 1579. Down -below stood a gigantic warrior in coat of mail with curling plumes. He -was a very satisfying warrior. The hotel was built directly upon the -river’s brink and its lowest story was hollowed out in lovely arcades, -where a fruit market was held. - -Let no one suppose it was a stylish hotel. It had been chosen as the -headquarters of the noncommissioned officers of the artillery regiment -stationed at Lucerne. The dining-room was full of cartridges and flags -belonging to them and trophies of the Schützenfest societies which -also met there. Otherwise I imagine the patronage was chiefly from the -smaller class of commercial travelers. Of tourists, there was never a -hint. - -How we reveled in it! The clean little bedrooms looked out pleasantly -over the river and city. But it was the dining-room that charmed us -most, with its great blackened old sideboard twenty feet broad and the -red wine poured from huge stoneware flagons. They had a genius of a -cook at that place and another genius presiding over the dining-room. -I know not whether she was an employee or the proprietor’s wife or -daughter, but she was a most cheerful, capable, tactful young woman who -put everyone in a good humor on the spot. She told us something of the -history of the house. It had been built in 1579 as a guildhall for the -bakers, whose ancient name, now obsolete, was Pfistern. The original -frescoing had been preserved outside, with only the necessary touching -up from time to time. This great dining-room, with its huge rafters and -lofty ceiling, had been the original meeting-place of the craftsmen. -Except that she was evidently a very busy person, I think we should -have lingered to talk to her half the afternoon instead of going out to -see the city. - -Once outside we did, perforce, _faute de mieux_, what everybody -does, visited the ghastly War and Peace Museum, the curio shops and -Thorwaldsen’s Lion. - -The next morning was scheduled for the ascent of Rigi, but the weather -continued too thick. We spent the forenoon about Lucerne, shopping, -having a look at the old city ramparts and the two-spired church. We -still had a lingering hope that it might clear off in time for us to go -up Rigi by rail. But it did not, and we took an afternoon steamer for -Tell’s Chapel, which marks the spot where he is supposed to have jumped -ashore that day of the storm, pushing away the boat with his foot as -he did so, and thus escaping Gesler’s vengeance and getting the chance -to arouse the slumbering revolt against Austrian tyranny. - -The Tell Chapel, with its paintings of incidents in Tell’s life, is -a sort of national pilgrimage spot whose sacredness is not greatly -reduced by the fact that all educated Swiss now admit that Tell himself -was a myth. It is only sentimental foreigners who know nothing about -him but his name and the apple story and perhaps Schiller’s play, who -insist on believing in his reality. - -From the chapel we walked along the very beautiful Axenstrasse that -skirts the lake to its terminus at Flüelen, regretting the clouds -which shut out all but the nearest mountains. Thence we continued by -ordinary highroad to Altdorf, where the hat and apple incidents are -supposed to have taken place. They have a rather fine but aggressively -modern statue of Tell and his little son (erected in 1895) in the -village square. During the summer the villagers play Schiller’s Tell, -once a week, I think. We had intended to time our visit to Altdorf for -one of these representations. But the week devoted to influenza had -delayed us just too long, and the dramatic season was over. The place -is so accessible to tourist routes that the play has probably become -sophisticated anyhow. - -We dined that evening at an inn near the station and played cards -to keep awake till the St. Gotthard train came along. It was a slow -and crowded train, and we were very glad to arrive about 11 P. M. at -Goschenen and follow the porter of the Lion to that very excellent -hotel. - -Next morning we were up betimes and starting afoot over the St. -Gotthard carriage road. It is a very fine piece of engineering, -zigzagging back and forth in long loops to keep the grade easy. The -scenery is, like that of the Simplon, Tête Noire and other carriage -roads, picturesque rather than magnificent. One of the chief scenic -elements is furnished by the Reuss, a foamy mountain stream whose -course the road follows, the interest culminating at the famous Devil’s -Bridge. - -Everybody knows the story which has been attached, with local -modifications, to numerous other bridges and buildings, about the -engineer who, finding his task too great for human skill, invoked the -aid of the Prince of Darkness. This potentate gave his assistance -in return for the soul of the first passenger who should cross the -bridge. Whereupon the engineer, taking a mean advantage of the Devil’s -confiding nature, drove over a dog. - -On the face of the rock above the bridge there is a very crude painting -much reproduced on local postal cards of his Satanic Majesty, very -black, with horns and tail and breathing fire from his nostrils, -jumping back in surprised disgust before the polka-dotted animal of -uncertain species who is trotting across the bridge. - -What interested us more than the hackneyed devil legends was the -armored gate with loop-holes for musketry, whereby the Swiss government -can, when it chooses, effectually close this road. In connection with -the mountain batteries known to exist on surrounding heights, this gate -would seem to make it practically impossible for an invading army to -get by. - -[Illustration: _The Banks of the Reuss, Saint Gotthard Pass_] - -While discussing the thoroughness of the Swiss defenses, we recalled -the death of an Italian staff-officer a few weeks before who had -“accidentally fallen off of a precipice” while taking notes in the -forbidden Swiss zone, and we decided we did not care to explore the -near-by heights. - -Not far from here was the scene of a fight during the Napoleonic wars, -and a monument with an inscription in exotic characters is dedicated to -the Russians who fell there. - -At Andermatt quite a large detachment of troops is stationed, and -indeed we met members of the Swiss citizen soldiery all along this road. - -It was our intention to go to the summit of the pass and then return to -Hospenthal for the night, but a thick snow-storm shut in around us, and -at the fork, which we afterwards learned was only about a mile from the -Hospice at the summit, we evidently took the wrong branch, and arriving -nowhere, grew discouraged and turned back. We lost nothing in the way -of scenery, as it was impossible to see ten feet in any direction. - -At a considerably lower level we came upon a little road-house and -entered to get thawed out. Frater and I called for hot milk, but Belle -Soeur rashly ordered coffee. I do not know of what strange herb this -drink was brewed. Certainly not the coffee bean. We suspected catnip -mixed with a decoction of hay. The color was green and the flavor -incredibly unattractive. Belle Soeur decided that she also preferred -milk. - -We put up that night at the Hotel de la Poste in Hospenthal, than -which I never saw a cleaner nor more severely plain little inn. The -postmaster’s wife ran it, and we found her a most admirable Hausfrau. -The postmaster was, I don’t doubt, a most worthy character also, but -he and I had a battle royal over my mail because I had no passport -to claim it with. I told him a visiting card was enough at Geneva -or Lucerne, and he said the postal authorities there must be very -lax. I showed him Frater’s passport, which he said was all right for -_him_, but no good for _me_. However, he handed me out my letters -after a while, but declined to turn over a package which Anna, in -a characteristic spasm of caution, had had the unhappy thought of -registering. I knew just what articles it contained and told him in -detail, even to the darns, requesting him to open the package if he -wished to verify my statement. This suggestion seemed to alarm the old -man, and he turned it over to me intact, fortifying himself only by -taking my signature and address in a dozen or so different places. But -he regarded me with strong disapproval, and frowned when we met, and -I suspect his kind old wife put an extra egg or so into the omelet to -make up! - -Hospenthal is a rather quaint little village dominated by a robber -baron’s castle—at least, I think he was a robber baron. Anyhow it makes -a good photograph, and we took several next morning as we started out, -rejoicing in sunshine and blue sky. - -We bought some black bread and cheese to carry along for luncheon (all -we could get, but it turned out delicious—no hardship at all), had the -village shoemaker drive some new nails into our soles, and swung off -gayly to the right on the Furka Pass road. This, with the Grimsel, is -one of the most interesting of the carriage-road passes, the scenery -toward the end being quite wild and Alpine. The sparklingly clear and -bracing atmosphere added much of course to our enjoyment. - -At a road-house where we stopped to get something liquid after the -dryness of our admirable bread and cheese, we found the wall adorned -by a charcoal cartoon of slightly bibulous aspect, left probably by -some traveling artist in lieu of paying his bill, and the following -ingenious poem: - - “Das Wasser ist von jeder Zeit - Die Best von aller Menschengaben. - Mir aber lehrt Bescheidenheit - Man muss nicht stets vom Besten haben.” - -Which may be translated: Water is at all times the best of all the -gifts to man. Modesty, however, teaches us that we should not always -take the best. - -We had intended stopping for the night at the hotel on the summit of -the pass, but were so unfavorably impressed by the financial shiftiness -of the polyglot clerk who airily told us that he spoke equally well -“_französisch_, _englisch_, _italienisch_—_Was Sie wollen_,” and tried -to double the Baedeker prices on us, that we turned him down and -walked on. Truth to tell, we felt grave doubt as to whether we should -find any other accommodation short of the Rhone Glacier Hotel, which it -would have been highly inconvenient for us to go down to. But principle -is a great thing, and we were prepared to sacrifice ourselves for it. - -Luck was with us, though, and we found the Bellevue, a first-class -hotel on the upper brink of the Rhone Glacier, still open, though -preparing to close on the morrow. We enjoyed an excellent dinner and -night’s rest after watching the lovely views of glacier, valley and -snow mountains pass through the various phases of sunset, twilight and -full moon. - -In the morning we started out with a guide across the glacier and over -the Nägelis Grätli, a stony height on the far side, from which the -views are very fine, and the path descends directly to the Grimsel -Hospice. - -To our surprise we found ourselves making far better time than the -Baedeker schedule. We mentioned this to the guide, who said that -the path across the glacier had been shortened several years ago, -but Baedeker hadn’t found it out yet. “Everything in this world -changes, except Baedeker,” he said, and was so much flattered by -our appreciation of his _bon mot_ that he repeated it at ten-minute -intervals during the rest of the trip. - -As soon as we saw our way clear ahead, we sent back our guide, who -was a little unduly addicted to his cognac bottle as well as to his -Baedeker anecdote, and continued alone. - -The Grimsel Hospice and the two turquoise lakes lay right below us. A -yodel came floating up through the clear air, and standing out in front -of the hotel we soon identified the stocky form of Fritz Biner waiting -for us. - - - - -XXI - - -At the Grimsel we received and sent off mail, including Belle Soeur’s -and my knapsacks, that we might be in the lightest possible marching -order. We also invested in provisions,—ground coffee, cheese, bread, -chocolate and hard-boiled eggs. And Frater, at Biner’s suggestion, -humbled his pride so far as to purchase an alpenstock. Also we indulged -in an excellent lunch. - -The weather had been beautiful all the morning, as it had been the -day before, but it did not look so well after luncheon. The sky was -graying, and there was a suggestion in the air of approaching snow. -However, it was not definitely bad and might be all right by morning, -so Biner thought there was no reason for postponing our start. - -The method of crossing the Strahlegg is to leave the Grimsel in the -afternoon and spend the night at the Dollfus Pavilion, one of the -Alpine Club refuge huts, and get a very early start for the long day’s -trip to Grindelwald. There is another club hut, the Schwarzegg, on the -Grindelwald side of the pass, where the second night can be spent if -one is belated—a most fortunate circumstance for us as it turned out. - -Biner broke to us the news that there was another party besides -ourselves of three “gentlemen” going to start over the Strahlegg that -afternoon. We were quite disappointed at this, for we wanted the club -hut to ourselves, and the scenery, too, for that matter, and had -supposed that so late in the season there would be no trouble about -it. However, it was the fortune of war, and it seemed foolish to wait -over another day and risk bad weather to escape them. Biner seemed to -be rather pleased at the prospect. He said it would make it much easier -and safer for us to join forces with the other party and all be roped -together for the next day’s climb. We reserved decision on this point. - -Shortly after lunch we started forth, so as not to be hurried. The -other party were ahead of us. Our way led over glacier débris and along -a moraine, stony, scrambly, but presenting no difficulties. We seemed -to be charging directly at the Finsteraarhorn. The “Infant Aar” had -been lost to sight in the great glaciers that gave it birth. We were -approaching the heart of the High Alps at last. - -By way of acquiring information, I asked Biner as we walked along of -what nationality the gentlemen might be who belonged to the other -party. The question visibly embarrassed him. “They are Swiss,” he said. -“But—well, they are _not_ gentlemen. They are employees of the Grimsel -hotel, which is about to close for the season, and they are going home -this way for pleasure. They are all good mountaineers, so they will be -very useful to us.” A little more questioning elicited the fact that -they were the chief cook, the barber, and a stableman who often served -as porter to climbing parties and hoped some day to be a guide. We -were rather relieved than otherwise by this information. Tourists, if -underbred, might have proved annoying in such close quarters, but these -people would doubtless be entirely unobtrusive. - -The Dollfus Pavilion is a thick-walled stone hut built on a cliff -overhanging the glacier. The altitude is 7850 feet. By the time we -reached it, the evening winds were holding high and chilly carnival -around it and the clouds were closing down. - -As we opened the door of the hut, we stepped into an atmosphere almost -unbreathable with wood smoke from the stove combined with liquor -fumes from a steaming kettle. Half-choking, we beat a hasty retreat -into the open air. The occupants of the hut rushed out with exuberant -hospitality, begging us to come in and get warm and partake of the -“tea” they were brewing. The smoke would soon be gone. The fire had -been hard to start, but was all right now. We thanked them, but said -we preferred the outer air for the present. These self-effacing hotel -employees did not seem to be turning out exactly as we had expected. We -had not reckoned on the cognac. - -It was cold outside and getting colder. Snowflakes began sifting down -on us. Had there been any possibility of getting back to the Grimsel we -certainly would have done so. But it was out of the question at that -time. Presently Biner came out and said our supper was ready. He had -had nothing to prepare except the coffee. - -The smoke had cleared away, so we could see the room, its furniture and -occupants. There was a long deal table with a bench at each side, set -with enamel ware cups and plates. There was a small but energetic stove -and a simple outfit of cooking utensils. These were all furnished by -the Alpine Club. Printed notices on the wall requested those availing -themselves of the hut to leave everything clean and in order. An open -door showed us the hut’s other room. It contained a raised platform -heaped high with straw, long enough for a dozen people to sleep on in a -row. On a cord above were hung a generous supply of gray blankets. - -Considerably to our disgust, we found that the other party’s supper and -ours were to be celebrated simultaneously. But in this refuge provided -for all alike, we clearly had no right to object, if their own sense -did not show them the desirability of keeping to themselves. Our guide, -on the other hand, positively declined to sit down at the table with -us, whether to set his fellow-countrymen a good example or simply -because he was on duty (which they were not), I do not know. - -We gave Belle Soeur the protected seat in the middle. Frater had the -barber next to him, and the stable man was next to me, the cook beyond. - -Let me now state that the cook was, so far as we were concerned, an -entirely respectable and unobjectionable member of society. If he drank -too much of their precious tea and cognac mixture, he did not show it, -and he did not obtrude himself on us in any way. - -The barber did not show any signs of intoxication at this time, but he -was an unthinkably unpleasant little beast, curled, powdered, perfumed, -dressed in a flamboyant tourist costume which included plaid golf -stockings and knickerbockers, and possessed of a most colossal nerve. -He evidently regarded himself as a lady-killer. He knew a few words -of English, and armed with them he proceeded to be polite to Belle -Soeur. Belle Soeur can be pretty chilly when she likes and Frater’s -snubs were of the knockdown variety, but nothing seemed to make any -impression on the barber’s cuticle. He had a camera along and offered -to take our pictures in the morning. This was finally declined so that -he understood it, but it took a battle-ship’s broadside to do it. He -appeared to be sure that our feet must be cold and wet and that we were -too timid to avail ourselves of the fleece-lined wooden shoes which are -part of the outfit of an Alpine hut. From the time of our arrival at -the front door to our retiring for the night, he urged these shoes upon -us at fifteen-minute intervals. - -During supper the barber and the stableman vied with each other in -pressing upon us each and every article of their rather elaborate menu. - -The stableman was in the maudlin and verbose stage. He assured us -that among the eternal snows of the upper Alpine regions all social -distinctions are obliterated, and high and low, rich and poor, meet on -a plane of equality. (This in explanation of their sharing the table -and benches with us, I suppose.) I said unresponsively that there -could be no objection to anyone’s poverty and lowliness so long as he -was sober and respectable. At this he almost dissolved into tears and -confided to me that he knew he had drunk too much, that it was a very -bad thing to do, that he was very sorry, but what would you? After a -summer’s hard work, the first day of freedom, etc. - -Meanwhile, Frater, who could not follow the German, was wanting to know -whether my neighbor was saying anything sufficiently objectionable to -merit personal chastisement. I reassured him, and we tried to keep -up the conversation among ourselves, ignoring our neighbors. But -they declined to stay ignored and kept offering this, that, and the -other article of food or drink. They seemed unable to believe that -our declining these overtures was prompted by anything but shyness. -“The High Alps are not like cities,” the stableman explained. “In the -High Alps all men are brothers and share all things equally. No one -feels any hesitation in either giving or receiving. We are so small -and helpless in the hands of God! We must do all we can to help one -another.” - -Shall I ever forget that hideous meal? We got through as quickly as -possible and left the table. It was snowing too hard and was too -bitterly cold to go outdoors again. We went through into the other -room and shut the door and held a council of war. Should we sit up all -night? That would involve returning next day to the Grimsel. We clearly -could not sit up all night and take the trip over the Strahlegg, too. - -It had seemed a matter of course to Belle Soeur and me at the Nieder -Rawyl cheese-hut to roll up in blankets and go to sleep in an -apartment shared by our escorts and two cowherds. It was physically -uncomfortable, but not in the least morally so. But the thought of -dividing that hay-heaped sleeping-shelf with those drunken animals in -the next room was revolting to the point of nausea. It was impossible. - -Biner joined us for a few minutes and came to our rescue with a -suggestion. We could curtain off a portion of the shelf for Belle Soeur -and me with blankets. No sooner said than done. We chose our end, and -in front and on the unprotected side hung blankets. It was arranged -that Frater was to sleep immediately outside and Biner next to him, so -that the precious trio of fellow-Alpinists would be kept at as great a -distance as possible. - -When we had completed our arrangements, we sat down and tried to -distract our minds by playing cards. It was one of the saddest games -I ever indulged in. In the next room, free from the restraint of our -presence, the revelry waxed more and more boisterous as the cognac -tea circulated. I was a bit worse off than the others for catching a -word here and there of the talk. It did not make me happier to realize -that they were talking about _us_. I learned afterwards that they were -arranging the order in which the combined parties were to be roped next -day. But the fragments that I caught had a singularly unpleasant sound. -I did not wish to be a sensationalist and I knew the limitations of -my German, so I did not say anything to the others about it, but I am -afraid my game of cards was _distrait_. - -This was my birthday. I had spent the previous ones in very various -quarters of the world and in very various company—but never anything -like this before, and may the like never be my lot again! - -Belle Soeur and I now retired to our tent, which, after all, gave us as -much privacy as one gets in a sleeping-car, and Frater rolled himself -along our only unprotected boundary. Naturally, we did not sleep. Aside -from our nervousness, the men in the next room were making too much -noise. I have no means of knowing how late they kept it up, but it must -have been till after midnight. There were moments when they seemed to -be quarreling violently, and we half-hoped they would wind things up -neatly by cutting each others’ throats. At other times they were merely -hilarious. - -All at once the door opened, and they rolled in, still noisy, and -bringing with them such a smell of concentrated liquor as I never -imagined. They paused and gazed at the blanket-wrapped form of Frater. -“_Ist das der Herr?_” whispered the barber to one of his companions. -From the depths of the blankets I heard my brother’s voice growl in -disgusted English, “No, you thundering fool, I’m the two ladies.” - -The revelers now disposed themselves for slumber, but for another hour -or two we heard their giggles and whispers, and the alcohol fumes in -the close air were unspeakably nauseating. From time to time Frater -pressed my hand under the blanket curtain to reassure me, and I did as -much for Belle Soeur. - -We were of course in no physical danger. Not only could Frater and the -guide have easily handled the trio, but Frater could have done it, -I doubt not, single-handed. But the unpleasantness of it was beyond -words. We felt as if a month of spiritual Turkish baths would hardly -make us clean. - -I have told this somewhat unsavory story in all its unsavoriness as a -warning to others, the moral being that a party including ladies should -never plan for a night in an Alpine Club hut unless they are assured of -having it to themselves. Mountaineering is not _all_ poetry, and there -might be terrors encountered beside which crevasses and avalanches -become attractive. - - - - -XXII - - -Their over-night celebration did not prevent our fellow-travelers -from getting up about four o’clock so as to get a good start over the -pass. We told Biner we would arise later and that he need not serve -our breakfast till after the others had gone. They finished their -breakfast, but still did not start. At last it dawned upon us that they -were waiting for _us_. - -We called Biner and expressed our sentiments. We thought we had been -sufficiently emphatic before, but we left no doubt in his mind this -time that no earthly consideration would induce us to make the trip -in such company and that if he felt unable to take us over the pass -in safety alone as he had agreed to do, we would give up the trip and -return to the Grimsel. - -He started to tell us that the men were entirely sober this morning, -and were excellent mountaineers, but I cut him off with a “_Ganz und -gar unmöglich_.” We added that the weather was more than doubtful and -that last night’s fall of snow would make the trip more dangerous and -more difficult. In that case, we said, we would wait over till the -next day and see if conditions improved. Biner sighed and returned -to the next room, where he made known our decision, and the trio of -objectionables started, the irrepressible barber being the only one who -had the nerve to bid us farewell. - -We now emerged and had our breakfast. We had pretty much decided to -stay at the Pavilion till next day, sending Biner back to the Grimsel -for firewood and provisions. It had stopped snowing, but the sky -was black and the clouds hung low. However, about eight o’clock it -lightened up a bit, and Biner said he thought it would do to start. It -was late, but there was always the Schwarzegg hut in case we could not -make Grindelwald. - -We were glad enough to escape a day of inaction. So we bundled -ourselves up and started. My costume included winter flannels, heavy -shoes, high gaiters, corduroy jacket and skirt, a flannel shirtwaist, -a jersey of Frater’s, buckskin gloves, and my broad-brimmed felt hat -tied down over my ears with a veil. This had the double advantage of -keeping it from blowing away in some precarious spot where I could -not use my hands and of keeping my ears from freezing. My costume, -however, was inadequate. I should have had woolen or fur-lined gloves -and fleece-lined shoes. My fingers, toes, cheeks, and nose were all -frost-bitten before the day was over, and the suffering caused by the -cold was intense. - -Biner was the only one who had woolen gloves, and he shared them -with us, keeping one hand gloved in order to have the use of it, the -other glove circulating among us three. I do not think we could have -kept the use of our hands through the day had it not been for this -periodical thawing out of one hand at a time. But how it did hurt! -Biner should of course have seen that we were provided with these -things before starting, but I fancy he credited us with more knowledge -of mountaineering than we had. - -A short distance from the hut we were roped, Biner first, I next, as -interpreter, Frater next and Belle Soeur bringing up the rear. We -walked up the Unteraar Glacier to its origin, where the Lauteraar -Glacier and Finsteraar Glacier come together, then followed this latter -to the outlet of the Strahlegg Firn, up which we turned. - -The snowfall of the night before made it necessary for Biner to sound -each step ahead of him with his ice-pick. It happened several times -that the pick encountered no resistance, and Biner, kicking aside the -loose snow would uncover a fissure or air-hole in the ice which had -been completely covered. This delayed us somewhat, but the air was so -cold and thin, and we were in such poor condition, comparatively, after -our almost sleepless night, that I doubt if we could have gone much -faster had the surface of the ice been clear. - -The Strahlegg Firn is a great snow pile, very steep of surface, flowing -between huge walls of rock, on the right the Lauteraarhörner, on the -left the Finsteraarhorn and Fiescherhorn. Down this gully, as we turned -up it, swept a bitter icy wind that almost took our breath away. We -had been ascending rapidly since leaving the Dollfus Pavilion and were -now not far from the ten-thousand foot level. The thinness of the air -made it seem almost impossible to get enough oxygen to walk with. Each -breath was a labor, each step forward a triumph of mind over matter. -And it seemed each minute as if that terrible wind would blow our -flickering life-force out like a candle flame. - -It would have been sensible, of course, to turn around and go back. But -who likes to accept defeat? And we kept hoping, with baseless optimism, -that we had done the worst and would soon strike something easier. - -At noon we had climbed nearly to the top of the firn and stopped in the -shelter of a big bowlder for lunch. Ahead of us loomed a perpendicular -rock wall eight hundred feet high, as we subsequently learned from one -of Tyndall’s Alpine books. It looked higher. At its summit was the -alleged Strahlegg Pass, which we knew lacked just five feet of eleven -thousand. There was no sign of a path or any way of getting up, but we -knew human beings went over there quite frequently, and we supposed -that on nearer approach some sort of a trail would disclose itself. -We did not question the guide about it. The atmosphere did not lend -itself to extended conversation. We kept our breath for the serious -business of life. - -It was a great relief to get out of the wind, but the snowdrift we -sat down in was by no means warm, and our feet were by now extremely -painful. Just here Belle Soeur had an attack of mountain sickness and -had to lie down flat in the snow and couldn’t eat her share of the -bread and cheese. If she was going to do it, though, it was mighty -fortunate she chose lunch-time rather than a little later. The luxury -of this meal did not tempt us to linger long, and we were soon under -way again. We had not even unroped. - -In the midst of this primeval solitude we suddenly saw a human being. -Nothing could have surprised us more. It was a little black speck of a -man appearing on the upper brink of the rock wall and starting to climb -down. Was it one of the party who had gone on ahead of us, turning back -to seek help after an accident? Biner said not. Biner also said that -unless he was a professional guide, it was very foolhardy of him to -try to get over alone, and that no guide who knew the route would ever -try to come down where he was starting to make the descent. Presently -his interest increased to the point of saying that the man would -infallibly be killed if he didn’t turn around and go back. We were -horrified. But it was impossible to warn the man at such a distance, -even by gesture. - -It shows how absorbing our own peril soon became that we presently -forgot all about him, and when we thought of him some hours later could -only _hope_ he got through all right. As we heard nothing subsequently -of a fatal accident or of anybody’s disappearing, though we made -numerous inquiries, I suppose he escaped. - -He made things unpleasant for us for a time by detaching stones and -rock fragments in his climbing which hurtled downwards with destructive -force. We made quite a detour to the right to get out of the danger -zone. - -We were now at the foot of our rock wall, and there was no path, no -trail, no ledge, no deviation from the vertical. Still we might have -turned back, but we did not. The very preposterousness of the thing -held us. It was _impossible_ that there shouldn’t be some way of -getting up this cliff, which was not yet apparent! - -We started. Biner felt above his head with the point of his ice-pick -till he found a crack which held it firm. Then, with surprising agility -for a man of his age and build, he drew himself up till he could reach -it with his fingers, having previously located some little protuberance -or incision where he could rest his toe. Keeping his grip with one -hand, he leaned over and helped me up with the other. Frater climbed -to the place I had just vacated and pulled Belle Soeur up as Biner had -pulled me. By the time we realized the horror of it, we went on because -it seemed on the whole easier than to go back. - -All the way up that eight hundred feet of rock wall, there was never -a ledge large enough to rest on with the entire two feet at once! I -had read of such things in mountaineering books, but had cheerfully -supposed the descriptions exaggerated. And we had believed the -Strahlegg Pass was hardly full-fledged mountaineering anyhow—just -something a little more strenuous than the Gries or Rawyl. - -I don’t know what thoughts passed through the minds of the others, but -mine beat a sort of tattoo in my head like this: “You fool—_fool_—Fool! -You’ve got two little children in Grindelwald and a husband in the -Philippines. And you are going to break your neck within the next ten -minutes. And you aren’t accomplishing anything under heaven by it. It’s -just sheer futile idiocy.” - -The numbness of my hands was so great that my control over them was -most uncertain. My life and that of my companions depended on the -grip I should keep with those cramped, aching fingers, but though I -concentrated my will-power on them I felt no certainty that the next -minute they would not become rigid and refuse to obey me. - -Every once in a while the distance from ledge to ledge would be too -great for me to reach, and Biner would lift me by the rope around my -waist. During those instants, when I had loosened my own hold of hand -and foot and swung clear into space with nothing but an inch of manila -hemp and a man’s grip on it between me and a horrible death, I thought -of the daily Alpine accidents I had been reading about in the papers, -I thought of the frequency with which the rope parts at the critical -moment, I thought of my children in Grindelwald—and I called myself -names. The faculty to do a very extensive amount of thinking seemed to -be concentrated in those instants, the phenomenon probably being akin -to that so often chronicled of the last moment of consciousness by -those resuscitated from apparent drowning. - -I am more particularly relating here my own sensations because I -am most familiar with them. Those of the others, with the possible -exception of Biner, were undoubtedly equally vivid. Each of us was -perfectly conscious that if any one of us slipped, all four would go -down. In the nature of things, we had none of us a grip or foothold -sufficiently secure to resist a sudden jerk such as would come if one -were to fall. - -After the first few minutes, I never looked downward. I was not -inclined to dizziness, but the drop was too appalling. The others -told me afterwards that they also abstained from looking down. We -concentrated eyes and thoughts on the few feet of rock immediately -around and above us. - -Several times on the way up, puffs of biting wind would come down the -face of the cliff which it seemed must surely blow us loose. At such -moments we stopped climbing and flattened ourselves against the rock, -clinging as we loved our lives. - -Once we got all four on a little ledge not as wide as the length of -our feet, but solid enough to stand on without balancing. We paused -there to take breath, and somebody said “Cognac.” Now our experience -in the Alpine hut the night before had nearly made teetotalers of us. -But at this moment we decided that stimulants _might_ have a legitimate -use. Frater produced his silver pocket flask and handed it around. We -took a swallow in turn, and it was like liquid life running down our -throats. I never experienced anything so magical. (Here I am describing -my own sensations again!) I was at the very last point of endurance. -I had lost faith in ever reaching the summit of the cliff. I had no -more physical force with which to lift my sagging weight upward. I had -lost the will-power that lashes on an exhausted body. My numb hands -were stiffening. My lungs were choked and laboring. I could neither go -on nor go back. Then those two teaspoonfuls, or thereabouts, of fiery -cognac that burned down my throat sufficed to give me back my grip -on myself, physical and mental. I moved my cramped fingers, and they -answered. I took a deep, long breath and felt strengthened. A hope, -almost a confidence, crept into my heart, that with God’s help we might -reach the top alive. - -Then we went on and on and on. The same thing, with our eyes always -upward, but not far ahead. At last Biner clambered on to what was -evidently a broad ledge, for he knelt on it and, leaning over, gave me -his hand to help me up. It was a long reach, and as I got one knee on -the ledge and started wearily to lift the rest of my weight, he gave -me a pull and push that rolled me lengthwise over the brink, and to my -wonderment I found a resting-place for my whole body. - -“This is the summit,” said Biner. I had not known we were within five -hundred feet of it. - - - - -XXIII - - -If Biner had known we were nearing the top, he kept it to himself. To -us three it came as an entire surprise—and an unspeakably joyous one. -We were still alive. That was the main point. We had surmounted that -inconceivable cliff and were still alive! - -However, we could not stop long to rejoice. The summit of the pass was -barely big enough to stand on. The wind swept across it furiously and -the cold was unbearable. Above us on either side rose the rocky, snowy -peaks of the Finsteraarhorn, Lauterhorn and Schreckhorn groups, only -a few thousand feet higher than we were. Behind us was the precipice -we had just climbed. Before us dropped very, very steeply, yet not in -a precipice, a much longer slope of snow, at the bottom of which lay -a great glacier. The distance, Biner said, was three thousand feet, -and we absolutely _must not_ slip, as there would be no stopping-place -short of the bottom. He made Frater and Belle Soeur change places, so -as to put Frater’s strength at the rear for bracing back should any of -us start sliding. However, he impressed it upon us that we _must not_ -slide. He told us afterwards that he was much more afraid of this part -of the trip than of the climb up the cliff, but it was by no means so -fear-inspiring to _us_, nor so physically exhausting. - -It was a shame to leave that tremendous, awesome, Walpurgisnacht revel -of glacierdom visible from the summit of the pass so soon. But flesh -and blood could not endure the freezing gale. - -The last night’s fall of snow added much to the danger of the descent, -as it made the surface treacherous. Biner cut out each step ahead -of him with his ice-axe, taking care to get down to the hard-packed -surface beneath. As he put his foot in it, I put mine in the step he -had just vacated. Belle Soeur took my last resting-place and Frater -hers. It was slow, and we had our minds firmly fixed on not sliding. -But it was heaven compared with the cliff climb! - -The rest of the afternoon’s trip, between rocks and ice, was strenuous, -and we should have considered it highly perilous before our last -experience. But now we took everything as a matter of course. We -were in the midst of very wild and magnificent scenery, of which the -continued cloudiness somewhat impaired our view, while the intense cold -and our knowledge of the flight of time kept us from lingering to enjoy -what we _could_ see. As it was, we just barely reached the Schwarzegg -hut before dark. - -To our great relief, we found it empty. The other party had gone on -to Grindelwald. Never, I am sure, was a refuge more gratefully and -joyously entered. It was not so large as the Dollfus Pavilion, having -only one room. But it was Waldorf-Astoria and Paradise all rolled into -one to _us_! - -We put two francs in the tin box on the wall and took a bundle of wood -from the closet (at the Dollfus we had to bring our own fuel with -us), and in a few minutes Biner had a fire crackling in the stove. -We took off our ice-caked shoes and stood them by the stove whence -arose a steaming vapor for hours. Belle Soeur and I stuffed our wooden -clubhouse shoes full of straw to keep them on, and getting rid of our -skirts, which were frozen stiff as boards almost to the waist, we hung -them also to steam near the stove and wrapt ourselves, Indian fashion, -in gray blankets. We were enduring acute physical pain as our frozen -toes and fingers thawed out, but our minds were so at ease that we did -not care. - -Soon Biner was handing us great tin cups full of steaming coffee.—Oh, -the joy of it!—And as we drank scalding gulps of it between bites of -bread and cheese, we were as happy a little party as one would care to -see. And then we rolled up in, oh, ever so many blankets, six pairs -apiece, I think, and went to sleep in the straw on the shelf. - -We did not get a very early start next morning. It was so luxurious to -take things easy! The coffee was a second brewing from last night’s -grounds, and the bread and cheese a little scanty, but we didn’t mind. -We knew we should soon be where we could get more. - -The view in the morning was very, very beautiful. At first the whole -Grindelwald valley was covered with fleecy white clouds and even the -glacier immediately below thrust only an ice crag here and there -through the foamy mist. The hut was on a rock ledge over this great ice -river, which, sweeping downward, becomes the Lower Grindelwald Glacier. -Gradually the air cleared, the upper regions first, the sky above -disclosing itself a dazzling and unspotted blue, while the cloud strata -below us were still intact. - -What a magnificent day it would have been for going over the Strahlegg, -had we only waited! - -We stood for a long time outside the hut, ready to start, but hating -to leave the magnificent spectacle presented as the clouds below us -dissolved. - -There is a passage in Manfred which describes wonderfully just this -scene: - - “The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds - Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, - Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell.” - -Our way, it is true, did not lead us out of sight of our magnificent -views, but we knew we could only give them a divided attention when we -had started climbing. - -The Schwarzegg hut being put in excellent order and the last -two-francs-for-fuel piece dropped in the box, we bade the place a -grateful farewell, adjusted the faithful rope once more and started -along the trail—there really _is_ one from here on—which skirts the -right bank of the glacier. Wherever there is a bad stretch of rock -to be gotten up or down, iron spikes have been driven in, affording -foothold and handhold. What luxuries iron spikes would have been the -day before in that much more formidable cliff we had to climb! - -I wouldn’t recommend the walk between the Bäregg and the Schwarzegg hut -to children or invalids, nor should it be undertaken without a guide, -but it presents no real difficulties or dangers to vigorous young -people with steady heads and a little climbing experience. We were even -able to enjoy the scenery. - -[Illustration: _The Glacier from below the Schwarzegg Hut looking -towards the Strahlegg and Schreckhorn_] - -The mists gradually all rolled away and revealed the green Grindelwald -valley and its clustered châlets, not quite so far to the right as -the Edelweiss, but still we felt very close to home. - -After a couple of hours’ climbing, we were able to dispense with the -rope, which we did with decided relief at regaining our individual -liberty. We had been roped the day before for ten and a half -consecutive hours. - -Arriving at the Bäregg inn, we ordered _café complet_ served at the -table outside (for the thought of a room suffocated us), removed a few -layers of wraps become unnecessary at this lower level, and had a very -refreshing repast. - -We were objects of intense interest to a party of English tourists -of both sexes who had walked up from the valley, whether wholly -on account of our late mountaineering hardships and achievements, -doubtless communicated from our guide to theirs, or partly because of -our undeniably disreputable appearance, I do not know. But we had the -prestige of the High Alps about us and did not care for the strange -red glaze which the successive action of frost and sun had left on our -faces or the bloodshot surface of our eyes. We bore ourselves proudly -as befitted our estate, and were conscious all the way home of the -interest, sometimes not unmixed with envy, which we excited. - -At the turn of the road before reaching the Châlet Edelweiss, we met -the Mother watching for us, who had become alarmed at the delay in our -arrival. She had decided if we did not appear by two o’clock (it was -then about half-past one) that she would call on the curate of the -English Chapel, who is also a famous mountain-climber, and ask him to -organize a search party. - - - - -XXIV - - -The account of our Swiss summer ought properly to end with our trip -over the Strahlegg. It was certainly the climax of our experiences. I -do not know that any earthly inducement could persuade us to repeat -that trip (I speak with certainty in my own case). But, _having_ done -it, and having come through alive, we would not for the world be -without the thrilling memory of it. - -Biner said that after our late trip under the existing conditions, -we would find the ascent of either the Jungfrau or Wetterhorn very -easy, and he would like to take us up. But we were willing—oh, quite -willing—to take this easiness on faith. We had not forgotten that he -had also called the Strahlegg easy in advance. And Providence does not -like to be tempted too often. - -There was just a week from the day of our return till the day of -Frater’s leaving us to catch a steamer in Genoa, and just another week -till we should all leave. - -The first thing we wanted was rest in wholesale quantities and the -doctoring of feet and fingers. - -Emerging from this, we chose the second day for the celebrating of my -birthday, which it had not been feasible to do on the proper date. I -was the recipient of some very delightful gifts, including an elaborate -pyramidal bouquet, with an accompanying note of pleasant sentiments -from Suzanne and Anna. Belle Soeur made one of her famous cakes and the -candles were sprinkled on top with appalling thickness—a perfect forest -of them. - -The birthday dinner turned itself, quite unexpectedly, into a fancy -dress affair. I was making my toilet for it on the usual lines and had -reached that point in my coiffure, when my _chevelure_ was disposed in -two long ringlets hanging down each side of my face and neck. I had -just picked up my comb to run through them, when the Elder Babe, coming -into the room on some errand, began to call out frantically, “_Don’t_, -don’t touch those curls, Mother! Leave them just as they are! Come to -dinner _that_ way! You look just like a little girl!” - -I smiled and picked up the comb again, but I had miscalculated the -seriousness of my son’s enthusiasm. He rushed to the sitting-room door -and called his grandmother, aunt and uncle to his assistance. “Come and -look at Mother! Don’t let her comb out those curls! Make her come to -dinner that way!” He was prancing around like a little bacchante in the -joy of the thought. - -The three grown-ups appealed to entered into the spirit of the occasion -and backed him up. I yielded the point, gracefully I trust, but -stipulated that if I was to have a little girl’s coiffure I would wear -a little girl’s dress. Belle Soeur offered me her stock of lingerie to -select from, it being more ornamental than mine, and I was soon arrayed -in a very dainty lace-trimmed white gown with low neck, short sleeves, -and a skirt slightly below the knees. With the addition of silk hose -and shoon, a sash, shoulder knots and hair ribbons, all of pink, I -really wasn’t such a bad-looking little girl! - -We had a very merry, foolish, light-hearted evening, the children -being in ecstasies over this new effect in mothers, and the servants -almost equally so. - -This sportive little festival seems to me now like something that -happened in another incarnation. It required the absolutely perfect -physical condition we had all reached by then and the effervescence of -the mountain air to make it possible. But it was the last exuberance. - -The season was nearly over. We were soon going back to the world of -commonplace. With what reluctant melancholy we clung to those last -days, trying to stretch out the hours past their natural limit! - -One day Frater and I went to Interlaken for some shopping. He walked -both ways, but I went down by train. We were late starting back and -wasted a mile or so by attempting a short cut as we left the town. -During the summer the long, long twilight had been a noticeable -feature. It was still daylight at nine o’clock. But now it got dark by -seven or before and the last hour of our walk was in such inky darkness -that we could scarcely make out the highroad in front of our feet. We -saw the lights of the village glimmering a welcome long before we -reached it, and had developed a wonderful appetite for our belated -dinner by the time we arrived at the châlet. - -Another day we made our long-projected trip to the Lauterbrunnen -valley. It was one of those things so perfectly easy to do that all -summer long we had not done it. Frater and I walked over the divide by -way of the Männlichen, where we ate our lunch and bade an affectionate -farewell to that grandest of panoramas, passing down the other side -through Byron’s Wengern Alp to the village of Lauterbrunnen, where -at tea-time we met the Mother, Belle Soeur and the Elder Babe, who -had come by train. The Mother was the only member of the crowd who -felt wealthy enough to take the trip to Mürren, a summer resort on -a great cliff overlooking the Lauterbrunnen valley on the far side, -commanding a fine view of the Jungfrau, with the deep valley well in -the foreground. It is reached by a very steep-grade cable and electric -railway. The rest of us contented ourselves with walking to the -Staubbach Falls. - -The waterfalls of the Lauterbrunnen valley have a great reputation, as -they drop over a cliff about a thousand feet high and turn to spray -long before they reach the bottom. But their volume is so insignificant -that they are little more than a silver ribbon, and while interesting, -they are certainly not equal to their reputation. The great falls -of the Yosemite (to which they are often compared) would dwarf them -utterly. - -We all walked together down the Interlaken highroad, turning back -frequently to watch the sunset lights on the Jungfrau, to the joining -of the Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald valleys, where we boarded the -train for home. - -[Illustration: _Lauterbrunnen_] - -This was our very last excursion. There were a few things we had -meant to do and hadn’t had time for, chief of them the ascent of the -Schwarzhorn, a nine-thousand-foot peak behind us, to the east of the -Faulhorn. It might at this time have been more appropriately named -Weisshorn, for the autumn snows had covered all its black rock ledges. -Belle Soeur and I had a notion we might still do it alone during the -week after Frater left. But we didn’t. And there had been a great -many things that we had intended to do over again, but found no time -for. - -Before we knew it, it was October 3rd, and we were seeing off Frater at -the station. - -I must not forget about the conveyance of his baggage thither. He and -Antonio had brought no trunks with them, but each had a large telescope -bag, which held as much as a small steamer trunk. When Antonio left, -he had hired a lad with a hand cart, who lived in a châlet to the rear -of us and was one of a large and impecunious family who liked odd jobs -and old clothes and the left-overs from our table, to take it to the -station for him. The day before Frater’s departure, we told Anna to -engage the lad again. What was our surprise, as the time drew near to -leave for the station, when there appeared, instead of the boy and -his cart, his fourteen-year-old sister with a rack on her back. She -explained that her brother and the cart had an all-day’s job, and she -had come in his place to take the gentleman’s valise to the station. -The poor girl already had her shoulders curved by the carrying of -burdens. It seemed brutal to let her do it, yet even more so to deny -her the chance of earning a little money. Besides, it was quite too -late to get any one else, and Frater admitted that _he_ was unequal -to carrying the thing a mile and a half. So off we trudged in a -procession, the young portress bringing up the rear, and we told Frater -this little service from a member of the “housely herd” furnished the -fitting last touch of “local color” to his Swiss summer. - -Our last week was given over to packing and paying bills and cleaning -house and all sorts of prosaic last things. I do not remember that -we went anywhere except to the Upper Glacier and the village. I do -remember the snow though. We had said many times during the season -that we wished we could see our beloved Grindelwald valley in its -winter dress, but we hardly expected our wish to be granted. It was, -though, most fully, and with effects unspeakably beautiful. We had a -regular roaring blizzard for about three days, during which we kept -the cylinder stove in the lower hall burning furiously, and abandoned -the second story as uninhabitable. I fancy the owners do the same in -the winter. The little hall stove and the kitchen stove can hardly be -said to have kept the lower story comfortable. We could still see our -frosted breath. But they made life endurable. - -When it cleared off, we looked out at a veritable fairyland. All -the world was buried under at least a foot of the purest white -snow imaginable. Every tree was bending its branches beneath the -burden of it. The mountains were dazzling. Even the rocky cliffs of -Wetterhorn and Mettenberg had the soft white powder adhering to their -perpendicular surfaces. If we had had any way of keeping ourselves -even half-way comfortable indoors, I do not see how we could have torn -ourselves away from it! - -I regret to have to chronicle that our last hours were marred, beyond -the inevitable sadness of parting and the inevitable fatigue of -packing, by the inexplicable conduct of the Herr Secundärlehrer and his -Frau. It is the well-known habit of landlords on the continent to run -up a bill on their tenants for breakage, wear and tear, and “extras” -limited only by their idea of the workableness of the persons they are -dealing with. But the Herr Secundärlehrer and his wife had seemed so -utterly honest and straightforward, so trusting and unmercenary, that -I had no anticipation of anything of the sort from them. They had not -wanted a lease or an inventory or their money in advance or any of the -things the typical landlord looks out for. They had declined payment -for ever so many things that they might legitimately have taken it for. -So it _was_ a shock when the bill came in. - -I had had great difficulty in getting it. They were evidently saving it -for the last moment. Finally, after repeated requests and messages on -my part, it was handed through the kitchen window by the Frau to the -cook late Saturday evening, the Frau immediately vanishing into the -darkness. - -The Mother, Belle Soeur and the Elder Babe were leaving Sunday morning -early with most of the baggage. Suzanne, the Younger Babe, and I, after -the last house-cleaning, were to leave by the same early train Monday, -rejoining the others at Lucerne. All day Sunday I tried to get hold of -either the Secundärlehrer or his wife. I was told that he was sick—that -he was asleep—that his wife was busy. Finally, after an especially -emphatic message, late in the afternoon, the Secundärlehrer appeared, -looking very much the worse for wear (as was sometimes the case with -him on Sunday, I regret to say, after a convivial Saturday evening with -cronies in the village) and in a very bearish humor. - -I have always been of the opinion that his wife did not approve of -the bill and kept away because she was ashamed. Certainly she never -appeared again on our horizon to say good-bye, and I had to send the -keys to her by Anna when we left. I am also of the opinion that the -Secundärlehrer had been put up to that bill by some of his worldly-wise -friends in the village and coached what to say when I objected. - -The bill was about three-quarters of a yard long, and though it was not -very enormous in its sum total (the extras were inside of a hundred -francs), many of the items were so preposterously unjust that one -could hardly accept them meekly. - -One of the foremost was the bath tub. I think it was twenty francs -that was put down for the use of it. The bath tub was a full-sized -porcelain-lined one which the Herr had ordered in a spasm of modernness -before he rented the house to us, but which arrived only after our -installation. They put it down outside the house and left it there -for some days till I made inquiries. The Herr explained to me that he -thought every progressive family should own a bath tub and that he had -intended putting it in the little room opening off the kitchen. This -was the only place we had to keep provisions in, the kitchen itself -being quite too tiny, and I really couldn’t give it up, but my soul -yearned for that bath tub. The Herr then suggested that it could be -put up on the porch (the one we did not take our meals on), connected -with the water faucet in the kitchen by a length of garden hose, and -surrounded by curtains. He said his wife would see to the curtain part -if we would permit them to bring their children over once a week for -a bath. It was so arranged, and a very funny out-door bathroom it -was. The children of the neighborhood were so much interested in its -workings that one felt little privacy inside, even after having sent -Anna out to shoo them away and expended a paper of safety pins on the -blowing curtains. When I objected to being charged for this luxury, -the Herr informed me that at a hotel we would have had to pay a franc -apiece for every bath we took, at which rate it would have amounted, in -the course of the season, to much more than twenty francs. He knew this -was so, because he had once taken a bath at a hotel and been charged a -franc. - -The item of cellar rent was another which I objected to. There was a -small cellar under the rear part of our house which I had said I must -have the use of when negotiating. It was much encumbered with many -things which they said they could not move out, but we were quite -welcome to use it too. After about a month they told Anna that this -joint use was inconvenient to them and that they would give us a cellar -room to ourselves under the neighboring school-house. It gave Anna a -great many extra steps going over there for milk and other supplies, -but she bore it patiently in order to be obliging. But to be charged -extra for the discomfort was trying! - -When I voiced this sentiment, the Herr Secundärlehrer launched forth -into a most extraordinary tirade about having lost several hundred -francs from the wine he had bought to sell to me, which I had not -purchased, and his great magnanimity in not putting this on the bill. -This was so unaccountable that I could hardly believe my ears. “But I -never authorized you to buy any wine for me,” I naturally protested. -“Of course you didn’t,” was his astounding reply, “you were entirely -too clever to do that.” Considering that this was the first time the -subject of his selling wine to me had ever been broached, this was to -say the least puzzling. Was it just plain bluff and bluster to divert -attention from the items on the bill, or is there some unwritten law in -the Oberland that you buy wine from your landlord when you rent a house? - -I cut the interview short, rather glad that I did not understand all -the words he had used, paid the somewhat diminished bill, and had the -landlord shown out. Far worse than the mere disagreeableness of it, was -the blow to my ideals of these simple, honest people. And yet I will -not believe that I had been altogether mistaken in my first estimate of -them. Their education was a somewhat superficial matter. The peasant -nature, with all its suspiciousness of the foreigner as such, its -obstinacy and intolerance, was very close to the surface under the -Herr Secundärlehrer’s thin veneer of culture. I have an idea that he -suspected me of having known at the beginning that Frater and Antonio -were coming and kept it from him, though as I offered when I informed -him of their prospective visit to pay him either a lump sum extra or -lodging rates according to the time of their stay, as he preferred, it -is a little hard to see wherein he could have thought advantage was -taken of him. However, I suppose it came somehow under the head of my -unprincipled cosmopolitan cleverness. - -Whether it was this or whether it was some other thing, I am sure he -had had his feeling of ill usage inflamed by village cronies, grown -worldly-wise among the tourists, and was led to believe by them that -any weapon would do for getting even. Here is where I think his wife, -a much stronger and finer character than he, disapproved. I think she -held more or less unflattering views of us (our ways of life were very -different from hers,) but I believe she felt it unworthy to embody her -disapproval in the bill. While she never appeared again, she did one or -two nice little things at the end for our comfort which made us feel -she was trying to make up. - -If this was a story, it would never end like this—the merry company -scattered, the green summer gone, the honest couple who should have -been our friends turned into suspicious hostiles, keeping out of sight -and churlishly avoiding a farewell, the gray cold early dawn, Anna with -her belongings heaped on the porch, tearfully bidding us good-bye and -waiting to turn over the keys to the Frau Secundärlehrer, whom she was -deadly afraid of, Suzanne, the Younger Babe and I, all bundled up in -winter wraps climbing into the Red-headed Man’s carriage, and driving -off to the station over the creaking snow, while all the valley and -all the mountains lay hushed in still white slumber. - -But this is not a story. It is a simple chronicle of facts, which I -have told as they happened, the bad with the good, the sordid with the -beautiful. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: An Oberland Châlet</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edith Elmer Wood</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 14, 2022 [eBook #67842]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Fay Dunn, Fiona Holmes and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OBERLAND CHÂLET ***</div> - - - - -<div class="transnote"> -<h2>Transcriber’s Notes.</h2> - -<p>Hyphenation has been standardised.</p> - -<p>There is no Table of Contents</p> - -<p>Page 36 — Haüslicher changed to häuslicher</p> - -<p>Page 70 — Fraülein changed to Fräulein</p> -</div> - - - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_cover"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="1127" /></a> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>AN OBERLAND CHÂLET</h1> - - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_001"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="521" /></a> -<p class="caption center">THE CHÂLET</p> - </div> -</div> - - - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_frontis"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" width="444" height="650" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Grindelwald Lower Glacier</em></p> -</div> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - - -<div class="title-page"> -<p class="center"> AN<br /> - OBERLAND<br /> - CHÂLET</p> - -<p class="center"> <em>By</em> EDITH ELMER WOOD</p> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_cover1"><img src="images/cover1.jpg" alt="" width="110" height="103" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - -<p class="center"> NEW YORK - WESSELS & BISSELL CO. - 1910 -</p> -</div> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - -<p class="center"> <span class="smcap">Copyright, 1910, by</span><br /> - <small>WESSELS & BISSELL CO.</small><br /> - October</p> -<p class="space-above4"></p> -<p class="center"> <small>THE PREMIER PRESS</small><br /> - <small> NEW YORK</small></p> - - -<p class="space-above4"></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<p class="center"> <em>Affectionately dedicated to the other - occupants of the Châlet Edelweiss.</em> -</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_008"><img src="images/i_008.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="574" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><small>THE WETTERHORN SEEN THROUGH THE TREES -FROM THE FAULHORN PATH</small></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table class="toi" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr> -<td class="cht">Grindelwald Lower Glacier</td> -<td class="pag"><a href="#image_frontis"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td> -</tr><tr> -<th></th> -<td class="tdr"><small><small>PAGE</small></small></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Grindelwald Valley and Wetterhorn </td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Mönch and Jungfrau from the Männlichen</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Grimsel Hospice </td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Matterhorn from the outskirts of Zermatt</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Mont Blanc—Glacier des Bossons</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Bach Lake (Faulhorn Route)</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Brienz Village and Lake</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Lucerne, Old Covered Bridge and Water Tower</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Banks of the Reuss, Saint Gotthard Pass</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Glacier from below the Schwarzegg Hut - looking towards the Strahlegg and Schreckhorn</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Lauterbrunnen</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="space-above4"></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_010"><img src="images/i_010.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="555" /></a> -<p class="caption center">FRITZ BINER, THE GUIDE</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APOLOGIA">APOLOGIA</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">At</span> a period when everybody travels, and the -yearly number of English-speaking visitors -in Switzerland is counted by the hundred thousand, -the writer who presumes to offer the long-suffering -public a book of Swiss impressions -would seem to be courting the yawn reserved -for the N<sup>th</sup> repetition of the Utterly Familiar. -But the discoverer of a new country still has, -I believe, some privileges. It might even be -considered selfish of one who had found the -way back to Arcadia to keep the sailing directions -secret. And though there are countless -tourists who know the Swiss hotels and mountain -railroads, numerous villa people well versed -in the tennis and golf facilities of Montreux or -Lucerne, and a goodly company of Alpinists -who can tell you all about guides and ropes and -the ascent of the Matterhorn, there never was -anybody who got out of a Swiss summer precisely -what we did, or who, in fact, knows our -own particular private Switzerland at all.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p> - -<p>In the beginning, there were but four—no, -five—of us,—Belle Soeur and my two Babes -and I and our good French Suzanne, who, besides -looking out for the Younger Babe, performed -various useful functions about the -house. After some six weeks Frater and his -college chum, Antonio, dropped in on us from -their commencement across the sea, and a few -days later the Mother.</p> - -<p>Now the Husband-and-Father, who is also -the brother of Belle Soeur, and incidentally a -naval officer, had been ordered from the Mediterranean, -where he had been cruising, to the -Philippines, which are not so nice, especially -for Babes, particularly in summer. So, instead -of following him when we gave up our little -villa on the hills above Nice the first of June, -we moved into Switzerland. None of us had -ever been there before except the Chronicler -and the Mother, who had spent the usual sort -of summer there when the Chronicler was a -small child. We knew we wanted to be high -enough for bracing air, as far as possible from -tourist centers and among the really and truly -great and lofty mountains. So we went to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> -Interlaken for a start and hunted around among -the neighboring mountain villages till we found -what we were after. And on the tenth day we -moved into the Châlet Edelweiss, which lies -about a mile and a half from the Grindelwald -station on the road to the Upper Glacier, and -started housekeeping.</p> - -<p>It did not seem very propitious that first -day. It was raining dismally when we got off -the train; the roads were full of mud, and -the clouds had rolled down over the mountains, -so that nothing could be seen but the big -brick Bear Hotel and the ugly village street -lined with shops and restaurants. I tried to -remember how beautiful it had been the day -I was in Grindelwald house-hunting, and the -others tried to act as if they believed what I -was telling them about it, but I knew they -didn’t, and they knew I knew they didn’t. -When we got to the house, it, too, was depressing. -On the bright sunshiny day when I had -seen it before, it had looked primitive enough, -but now it seemed aggressively barren and comfortless. -Was it possible that we could live in -this barn for four months? I could see the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> -effort the family were making to act as if they -liked it—all but the Younger Babe, who made -no effort at all, but got frankly quivery about -the lower lip and begged to be taken back to -the Villetta Valentine at Nice or even to the -hotel in Interlaken. “I don’t like this house!” -he said. “It’s an ugly house. It’s <em>not</em> a happy -little home. It’s ugly. It hasn’t got any -‘fings’ in it. It hasn’t even got any paper on -the wall!”</p> - -<p>Now, this was quite true. Walls, ceilings -and floors were all of the same, well-scrubbed, -unpainted pine boards, and “fings” were limited -to strictly essential furniture of the plainest -type. And it’s wonderful how little is -strictly essential when you get down to it. But -at the age of three material accessories are apt -to assume an exaggerated importance. Every -infant is by nature a snob till the tendency is -reasoned or spanked out of him.</p> - -<p>With wholly artificial buoyancy, we wandered -over the house, apportioning beds and -rooms and hunting for something to cheer up -the Babe. We found it to a certain extent in -what he dubbed the two “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Charmantes bêtes</i>”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span> -which stood in the dining-room. They were -stuffed chamois, and all summer we intended asking -if the Herr Secundärlehrer had shot them -himself, but somehow we got away without -settling the question. A wreath awarded to -him as first prize at a <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Schützenfest</i>, which hung -framed on the wall, made it seem quite likely -that he <em>did</em> shoot them. These two <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bêtes</i> -formed, with a melodion, a narrow deal table -and six chairs, the furniture of the dining-room. -The rooms had only been differentiated into -dining-room, sitting-room and bedrooms for -our benefit. The furniture had all been jumbled -up when I saw the house before, and every -room except the kitchen had had one or more -beds in it.</p> - -<p>I wonder if I can make you see the Châlet -Edelweiss? It is the regulation Oberland -châlet of the better type,—exactly like the -tooth-pick boxes if you don’t know it otherwise. -The basement is of whitewashed concrete and -contains a small grocery store kept by the Frau -Secundärlehrer when she isn’t teaching school -or farming, and which she said she was sure -would not annoy us because it was so very<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> -small and hardly anybody ever came there to -buy anything. There isn’t any basement at -the back of the house because the sloping hillside -brings the ground to the level of the -kitchen and dining-room windows. <em>Our</em> part -of the châlet consists of two stories of unpainted -wood, surmounted by a big red roof. -The shutters are painted bright green. At -both ends of the house are broad two-storied -balconies. The only staircases are on the balconies. -There are moments when this is inconvenient. -Above the second-story windows -on the front of the house runs a legend in large -black Gothic letters, saying that the Secundärlehrer -and his wife caused this house to be built -by such and such a master carpenter. Some of -the houses in the village have verses or mottoes -painted on them, and we always regretted a -little that ours did not. It was rather nice to -see the wife’s name associated with the husband’s -in this matter. Doubtless her dowry -had helped build the house, certainly her industry -was helping to maintain it. But it was -rather decent of him to recognize the fact.</p> - -<p>The châlet has been built only two years, so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span> -its timbers have not acquired the rich sepia -and burnt-Sienna tones which make the old -ones such a joy to the eye. But the new kind -is better to live in!</p> - -<p>The house stands just above the highroad. -Behind it the green Alpine meadows roll steeply -upward to the Faulhorn ridge, which separates -Grindelwald valley from the depression occupied -by Lake Brienz. There are between four -and five thousand upward feet in this direction, -we being at about the four-thousand-foot level -ourselves. Below the road, the land runs down -rapidly to the rushing Lütschine, the stream -which drains the glaciers. We can hear the -roar of the water plainly, especially at night. -From the other side of the stream rise almost -precipitously the rocky cliffs of the Mettenberg, -getting up about ten thousand feet. To the -left the gleaming snow and ice of the Upper -Glacier, then the square gray, snow-capped mass -of the Wetterhorn. To the right the Lower -Glacier, with broad white firns and snow peaks, -and to the right of the glacier the knife-edged -Eiger. These three giants fill up our whole -immediate foreground. Far to the right is the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> -saddle-like depression known as the Kleine -Scheidegg, where the mountain railroad runs -over into the Lauterbrunnen Valley, and to the -left of the Wetterhorn, the narrow end of the -Grindelwald Valley is closed by a similar saddle,—the -Grosse Scheidegg, which separates it -from the Rosenlaui Valley. To the extreme -right is the rift in the mountains through which -the Lütschine escapes and the railroad gets -down to Interlaken. But it was all veiled in -mist the first day. We couldn’t see fifty feet -in any direction. There were some few tantalizing -glimpses as the clouds began to break -apart about sunset. But the family had to take -on faith the “glorious views” I had described -till next morning.</p> - -<p>The one heart-warming spot in the chilly interior -of the châlet that first afternoon was -the kitchen, where the Frau Secundärlehrer, in -the kindness of her heart, assisted by her little -Dienst-Mädchen, was beating up the eggs and -milk, which I had asked her to get for me, into -an omelet. We really had no use for an -omelet at half-past four in the afternoon, but -we would not have dampened her hospitable<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> -zeal by letting her see our lack of appetite. So -we sat down dutifully at the deal table between -the melodion and the stuffed chamois and ate -it. Then the Frau and her handmaiden bade -us good-night and left us—masters of all we -surveyed, including a fine crop of partially repressed -blues.</p> - -<p>Who would ever have guessed this was the -opening scene of the finest summer that ever -happened?</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">There</span> is nothing particularly joyous about -the process of starting a new house running -anywhere at any time. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Experta crede.</i> -But when you are a stranger in a strange land, -whose language you are imperfectly acquainted -with and whose inhabitants are as uncommunicative -as oysters and inclined to regard the foreigner -as an enemy till he has proved the contrary, -the difficulties are considerably aggravated.</p> - -<p>Among the rank and file of the people in the -German cantons of Switzerland, there seem -to be three classes:—those who have come in -contact overmuch with tourists and have been -spoiled by it; the low-browed, stupid type, -surly and hostile; and the honest, intelligent, -fresh-cheeked, unspoiled, who are never effusive, -but frank always and friendly to those -who seem to deserve it, staunch, reliable, independent, -self-respecting, in every way admirable,—the -bone and sinew and hope of Switzerland.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> -The first class are nearly as extortionate -and conscienceless as their confrères in France -and Italy without the charming Latin manners -that make one forgive their iniquity. At their -worst, this type is insufferable. But one can -escape. Two miles off the tourist tracks, one -never finds them.</p> - -<p>The second class one can only be sorry for. -It is not their fault that their brains and bodies -are stunted by cretinism or intermarriage of -relatives or insufficient nourishment or too much -carrying of heavy burdens. Their skin is sallow, -eyes dull, features heavy. One usually -finds them tending cattle, whom they closely -resemble, or inhabiting isolated châlets. If you -speak to them, they either stare open-mouthed -and answer nothing, or in the most unsatisfactory -manner. I do not know whether they -are capable of affection for their own people. -They certainly waste none of it on outsiders.</p> - -<p>There was a man of this type who lived in -a châlet on the hill above us, who came out -and hit the Elder Babe a resounding cuff on the -head, ejaculating some wrathful Swiss German, -which the poor Babe did not in the least<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> -understand. The Babe was doing nothing more -sinful than looking in the grass for a pen-knife -he had lost, but doubtless this man, with his -poor cramped crooked wits, suspected him of -some deep-dyed villainy.</p> - -<p>There was also a boy in the neighborhood -about twelve years old, who used to lie in wait -for the Elder Babe with a large stick and attack -him viciously. I would have let the Babe -(who was seven) fight it out with him, trusting -to the triumph of mind over matter, if the lad -had not been so absolutely unintelligent and -brute-like in appearance that I thought he might -crush the Babe’s skull with a rock or push him -off a precipice if he was angered.</p> - -<p>Every once in a while one hears of some queer -stupid outrage in Switzerland—the tires of an -automobile chopped up or obstructions put at -a dangerous turn in the road to upset a traveling -carriage. I imagine it is always one of -these quasi-deficients who is responsible for it.</p> - -<p>In the whole world I do not know a finer -people, nor one more charming to deal with, -than the healthy, intelligent class of Swiss, God-fearing, -law-abiding, domestic, industrious,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> -self-respecting, clean in mind and body. When -I had once beaten my way through their uncommunicativeness -and learned where I could get -the necessities of life, I found it indescribably -restful, after the perpetual battle over trifles -of my eight months’ housekeeping on the -Riviera, to throw myself on the mercy of these -good people, secure in the consciousness that -they would take no advantage of my ignorance, -and that the price of an article would be the -same whether I asked before buying it or after.</p> - -<p>One of the brothers of the family that kept -the meat shop was a guide in his leisure moments -and was building up a fine reputation -for skill and daring. While we were in Grindelwald -he covered himself with glory by successfully -doing some things that had never been -done before. With an Alpinist from Berne, -he crawled along the knife-blade edge of the -Eiger, Heaven knows how many hours without -sleep or rest or proper food, without standing -up or sitting down, just clinging and creeping,—a -feat which had been accomplished only once -many years ago. It was pretty to see how -proud his family were of him. A younger<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> -brother especially, once his shy reserve was overcome -by sympathetic questions, talked about -him as though he had won the Victoria Cross -at the very least. I do really think they were -the only firm of butchers I ever met who did -not need to be watched while weighing the -meat!</p> - -<p>The bakery people were admirable, too, -especially the young, rosy-cheeked wife, who -usually tended shop, and the bright-faced little -girl who brought the bread each morning. -They had a small grocery attachment to the -bakery, but I found it was not etiquette for me -to buy there anything which I could get from -the Frau Secundärlehrer in our basement. In -the bakery one day I saw some packages of -tapioca stacked up on a shelf, and, with the -Babes in mind, ordered some sent next morning. -It did not come and, supposing it had been -overlooked, I stopped in later to get it. “My -little girl took it up this morning with the -bread,” said the baker’s wife, smiling sweetly, -“but she found the Frau Secundärlehrer kept -it in stock, so of course she brought it back.” -I must have looked a little blank, for she added,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> -“The Frau Secundärlehrer might think it -strange if you got it from us instead of her.”</p> - -<p>Having learned this local canon, I struggled -dutifully to conform to it, though it was by -no means always convenient. The Frau Secundärlehrer’s -store was open only at odd times -when the Frau was at leisure. It was always -closed during the morning hours when one usually -makes purchases for the day. After sending -the cook to the village in the morning for -marketing and piously leaving some grocery -article to be purchased from the Frau in the -afternoon, it was hardly soothing to find that -she was just out of it or had never had it—and -the nearest other grocery a mile and a half -away!</p> - -<p>There may have been other local rules of -procedure equally sacred that I never did find -out, and so unwittingly offended against to the -end. I do not believe the Schweizer would be -forgiving toward shortcomings of this sort. He -is beautifully confident that the <em>Herr Gott</em> approves -of Swiss ways and dislikes foreigners, -and this gives him a virtuous rigidity in resisting -innovations. There may have been some<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> -such all-unconscious sin on my part to account -for the strange behavior of the Herr Secundärlehrer -at the end of the season. But we -won’t worry about that till the time comes.</p> - -<p>The way we got our milk is worth describing. -The cattle went up to the high pastures a few -days after our arrival. They went by our -house, and all day long we heard the tinkle of -the cow-bells, the tramping of their patient feet, -and the pushing and rubbing of their heavy -swaying bodies, and the air was full of their -breath as though we were in a dairy-yard. All -the cattle in the valley go up about the middle -of June (as soon as the snow is off the ground) -and come down the latter part of September. -The pasture lands are owned by the commune, -and each burgher of the valley has the right -to keep a certain number of cows there. There -is a head-man in charge of each commune’s cattle, -who, with a corps of assistants, lives up on -the heights all summer. Their chief occupation -is cheese-making. They are allowed such -milk and cheese as they need for themselves -during the summer (which, with coarse black -bread, practically forms the whole of their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -diet), and at the end of the season receive a -share of the cheese made in lieu of wages, the -rest going per capita to the cattle-owners. Meat -and eggs are scarce and dear, and this cheese -forms the staple of the valley’s food through -the winter.</p> - -<p>In the more distant pastures, all the milk not -drunk by the cattle men is made into cheese, -but from these Alps near Grindelwald a certain -amount of fresh milk is sold, being brought -down six or eight miles each morning strapped -to the back of a man, in a cylinder of white -unpainted wood that must hold from ten to fifteen -gallons.</p> - -<p>Do not imagine that we learned all this at -once. It represents the wisdom of the summer, -gathered and pieced together, bit by bit. All -we knew just then was that more cows than -we had ever seen in our lives were going past, -and it was a good thing that they were not -nervous animals, or their bells would surely -drive them crazy. Most of them were small -affairs hung around the neck from a narrow -leather collar. But sometimes the collar was as -much as four inches wide and the bell a great<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -jangling piece of metal seven or eight inches -long and about the same width. It must have -been a real burden for the cow to carry and -the stiff collar a severe infliction. We never -<em>did</em> learn the philosophy of these vagaries in -cow adornment.</p> - -<p>The Herr Secundärlehrer told us, on inquiry, -during those first days, that the Alpine milk -was the best to be had, although it cost more, -and that perhaps he could secure it for us during -the summer (it was a favor, you understand) -if we would say definitely what amount we -would take. It could neither be increased nor -decreased afterwards and it must be paid for -all together at the end of the season. “But I -prefer paying my bills each month,” I said. -“Can’t be done,” he replied. It was very mysterious, -but we let it go at that, and the milk -was delicious.</p> - -<p>Later, after the young men and the Mother -had joined us, I found we needed more milk. I -lay in wait for the man who brought the milk, -after the cook had tried her hand on him in -vain, and asked him if there was not some way -by which we could get an extra liter or so per<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -day. He was one of the stupid variety and his -“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nein</i>” was like the speech of a stone statue -(if stone statues spoke), without a flicker of -expression. Wouldn’t it be possible if we paid -a higher price for it? <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nein.</i> Wasn’t there -a head-man who would have the authority to -sell me more if I went to see him? <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nein.</i> I -think he regarded me as the Scarlet Woman -referred to in the Scriptures and felt that his -soul would be endangered by further parley. -So he walked off without any nonsense in the -way of apology or farewell.</p> - -<p>The only milk then to be bought was what -came up from Interlaken, and even that we -could not buy direct, since the man who sold it -did not go on his rounds so far as our house. -The baker took in a liter for us and we sent for -it in the afternoon, and it was often sour and -always pale and watery.</p> - -<p>The admixture of water was not entirely unknown -in our Alpine milk, for Frater one day -came upon a milk-bearer cheerfully filling up -his vessel from a mountain brook. Perhaps he -had stumbled and spilt some, or perhaps he -had been thirsty and drunk some, and of course<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span> -he had a precise and definite quantity to deliver. -I will not believe he had sold any on the side. -It would not be in character. And I do not -believe it could have happened often, or the -milk would not have been so good.</p> - -<p>For the benefit of intending housekeepers in -the Oberland, I would say that marketing, when -one has learned the ropes, is an easy matter, if -the family is blessed with good appetites and is -contented with simple fare and small variety. -In meat there was always veal and pork to be -had, beef and mutton only occasionally. When -we wanted poultry we had to send to Interlaken -for it, and the price was appalling, thirteen -francs for a pair of small chickens hardly -enough for a meal. Nearly everybody owned -a few chickens, but they would not sell them, -and eggs were often hard to get. As for fresh -vegetables and fruit, we were wholly dependent -on a rascally Italian who kept a fruit shop for -tourists near the station and charged tourist -prices for inferior articles. The only time he -ever gave us good value was toward the end -of the season when Antonio happened to address -him in Italian, and he and his wife glowed all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -over and heaped up the grapes in the bag. But -that did not prevent them from palming off a -collection of absolutely rotten pears on my poor -unsuspecting cook the next day! No fruit is -grown in the valley except a few late apples on -the road down to Interlaken, and the little wild -strawberries that come up for themselves in June, -no vegetables except cabbages and carrots and -the like, which each family toilfully raises for -its own use and cannot be induced to sell. The -Frau Secundärlehrer had some lettuce which -she generously invited us to help ourselves to as -long as it lasted, but she would not <em>sell</em> it. -One hardly realizes that it is summer, for one -has to depend so much on canned things. One -learns to eat a lot of the local cheese, which is -always good. And I must not forget the honey. -It is the invariable accompaniment of the Swiss -breakfast, which consists for the rest of rolls -and butter, coffee and milk. When the bees -have gathered their honey from the wild flowers -on the Alpine meadows, the flavor is complexly -delicious. One soon learns to despise -the insipid lowland product.</p> - -<p>I must not forget the salt, nor the long morning<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -spent in hunting for that useful staple. I -ordered it the first day from our basement grocery. -It didn’t come, and I repeated the order. -I was told the Frau had none. I supposed she -was just out of it and asked Belle Soeur, who -was going into the village, to get some at any -grocer’s. She went dutifully to every grocer in -the village and grew more and more puzzled at -being everywhere told they didn’t keep it. She -knew the Swiss used the condiment, for she had -been eating it. She inquired and was told to -go to the post-office. This sounded so perfectly -foolish that she paid no attention to it and inquired -elsewhere. She received the same answer. -After she had been told three times to -go the post-office, she went there, feeling -distinctly idiotic as she asked the old man behind -the stamp window if he sold salt. To -her astonishment, the reply was affirmative. -Salt, it appears, is a government monopoly in -Switzerland, and, in Grindelwald at least, the -postmaster had the exclusive right to sell it. In -time it became perfectly natural to say, “Give -me five postage stamps and a kilo of salt,” but -it required practice.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]<br /><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Looking</span> out on cocoa-palms and mango -trees from my Puerto Rican balcony (whatever -bad things may be said about the life of -a naval officer’s wife, nobody ever accused it of -monotony) it is hard to realize that last summer -our outlook was on Alpine meadows and glaciers.... -How can I catch and imprison -in words that glorious Swiss air or the more -elusive spiritual atmosphere of it all? How -tint the pictures with that characteristic “local -color” of which we talked so much that it became -family slang?</p> - -<p>The air at first was a little thin for us, and -we easily got out of breath. Accustoming ourselves -to it and gradually enlarging our climbing -radius, we were soon doubling and by the -end of the season nearly trebling our altitude -without inconvenience. It was when we went -down to the low levels that we felt oppressed -by the dense air and fatigued by the heat. A -sudden change of altitude either up or down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> -most of us found produced clicking of the eardrums -alternating with a wad-of-cotton-in-the-ear -sensation. Antonio was like the man who -couldn’t shiver. His eardrums wouldn’t click. -Our assurance to him that there was nothing -especially joyous in the sensation made no difference. -He felt that he wasn’t in the swim, -and it grieved him.</p> - -<p>There was certainly a magic in the air. It -made us all healthy and hungry and happy and -filled us with the desire and eventually the ability -to walk almost unlimited distances.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur, the Elder Babe and I did most -of the preliminary exploring together. Shall I -ever forget the beauty of the wild flowers that -first month? They were lovely all summer, but -never so lovely nor so many as during June, -when the Alpine meadows in our vicinity were -all blue with forget-me-nots or yellow and purple -with little Johnny-jump-ups. I don’t remember -the gentians till later, and I know the -Alpenroses blossomed in July. The Swiss have -a great sentiment for this flower, a sort of rhododendron -whose clusters of pink blossoms -growing on low scraggly shrubs color miles of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> -mountain-side at the proper season. But they -have no such loveliness as the dainty little flowerets -that grow down in the grass. The Edelweiss -cult, of course, is entirely a matter of -sentiment. The furry, pulpy little plant, stalk, -leaves, flowers, all of the same grayish, greenish -white, has no trace of beauty and indeed does -not look like a flower at all. Only its fondness -for growing in dangerous and inaccessible -places could make it desirable. There seems -to be plenty of it, too, if you know where to -go for it. During the season the tourist routes -are lined with little solemn, silent children selling -edelweiss. The supply never fails. But I -may as well confess right here that though of -course we purchased a certain amount of this -article of commerce, we never found a sprig of -it growing. We could doubtless have done so -by paying a native to lead us to a proper place, -but there would have been no sentiment in that. -We were always hoping to come upon it accidentally, -but we never did.</p> - -<p>We soon decided that it was a waste of time -to eat our meals in a stuffy little dining-room, -looking out only at an upward slope of grass,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -even though it was adorned with two chamois -and a Schützenfest prize. So we had the deal -table and the chairs transferred to the more private -of the lower balconies, the one that did not -communicate with the street; and we found that -the Eiger and Mettenberg and the Lower Glacier, -the whole regal glory of our outlook, added -a wonderful savor to our simple repasts,—changed -the prosaic process of eating, in fact, -into a sort of Magnificat. For it is true that -there are places in this world which make even -a pagan feel religious, and among all the winds -and rains and fields and rivers and beasts and -stars which “praise the Lord,” there are none -which entone their hymns in a voice more inspiringly -audible than the mountains which lift -their snow-crowned heads so near to Heaven.</p> - -<p>Is it surprising that the Swiss are a simple -and an honest race? It seems to me it would -be surprising if they were anything else. It -must be almost a physical impossibility to lie in -the presence of a glacier or on the edge of a -precipice. Before these hoary Titans of mountains -the complexities of our life fall away from -us like dust from a shaken garment. All our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> -artificial distinctions and sophistications become -infinitely unimportant. Perhaps ants feel this -way in the presence of the Pyramids, or flies -who light on the buttresses of Cologne Cathedral.</p> - -<p>After all, the Simple Life is not hard to live -if you get the right setting for it.</p> - -<p>We breakfasted, lunched, drank tea and dined -on that balcony till the snow drove us indoors -at the end of September. When it rained we -pulled the table back into the shelter of the glass -at the north end of the veranda. When it was -cold, we put on overcoats and golf capes. As -we lived with those mountains day by day, and -grew to know all their moods and manners, -good and bad, as one knows those of one’s truly -intimates, they became to us, not scenery, but -friends and kindred, not anything external, but -a part of our larger selves.</p> - -<p>We watched the snow line creep up at the -beginning of the season and down again at the -end. We watched the mountains hide themselves -in black lowering clouds, saw them lit -up by flashes of lightning, heard them roll back -the thunder, saw them repent and hang out a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -rainbow from the Wetterhorn precipice across -the white of the Upper Glacier and down in -front of the Mettenberg, the upper peaks shake -off their bad humor and emerge from the clouds -all wet and shiny, rocks as well as snow, in -the happy sunlight. Eiger is the same as ogre, -etymologically, I suppose. Anyhow, it means -giant, I have somewhere read. But when the -wind blew fleecy white clouds across his gray -flank and summit, half-hiding, half-revealing, -the effect was as alluring as a chiffon veil on -a beautiful woman. Then there was the delicate -pink Alpenglow to hope for about simultaneously -with dessert. Sometimes instead -there were eerie green lights among firns and -snowfields and white peaks above the Lower -Glacier, wherefore one of them is named the -Grindelwalder Grünhorn. And later, when -the dinner things had been cleared away and -the moon came up over the mountain walls of -the valley, our world was too beautiful to be -true. It was so exquisite that it almost <em>hurt</em>. -It induced silence and a sort of swelling of the -heart and an overpowering desire to be -good....</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_041"><img src="images/i_041.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="500" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Grindelwald Valley and Wetterhorn</em></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span></p> -<p>I did not mean to be betrayed into a rhapsody. -Permit me to call attention to the dash of -“local color” on our dinner-table furnished by -the cow-bell with which we summoned Suzanne -from the kitchen. I have that cow-bell still -among my most valued possessions. It and the -bowl of wild flowers in the center of the table -(not to mention the view) quite redeemed the -meagerness of the Frau Secundärlehrer’s table -linen and our consciousness that there were just -<em>exactly</em> enough knives, forks, spoons, cups, saucers, -plates and glasses to go around once and -that they had to be washed between courses! -If I wanted to ask anyone to dinner, I would -have to send to the village to buy one more of -everything!</p> - -<p>I have now confided to you nearly everything -I know about our housekeeping arrangements, -but I have not even mentioned our good -cook, Anna. This is not surprising, for she was -the most unobtrusive person I ever met in my -life. I secured her through an Interlaken employment -agency, but she was not at all like the -output of an employment agency in our own -glorious land of the free. Her voice was so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -low and she was so timid and deprecatory that -it was sometimes extremely difficult to find out -what she was talking about. She was so superlatively -meek that she seemed always to be -inviting one to ill-treat her. I suppose it was -this characteristic which made Suzanne bully -her so at first. At Nice we had had a cook -who kept Suzanne terrorized, drove her out of -the kitchen with a poker and reduced her to -daily tears. The joy of emancipation from -that servitude, combined with Anna’s meekness, -were evidently too much for her. This time -it was Anna who wept. She came to me at the -end of a fortnight and told me she would have -to leave, that she seemed to be able to please -Madame well enough, but that it was quite -impossible to satisfy Suzanne. I told her to -think better of it, reasoned with Suzanne and -appealed to her sympathies (she has the best -heart in the world), and the two soon became -excellent friends.</p> - -<p>Dear little mild, meek, faithful Anna, I do -hope she is prospering! She was a widow and -supported her three little children on the thirty-five -francs a month she got from me. I put<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> -it up to forty-five, unsolicited, from pure sympathy, -but I don’t suppose she could get more -than half of that through the winter. She was -bilingual,—French and German,—so it was -easy for all of us to communicate with her, and -she had pretty rosy cheeks and soft, good -eyes.</p> - -<p>I remember the time I asked her (speaking -French) what they called a bureau (<em>commode</em>) -in German. “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">On l’appelle comme ça</i>,” she -murmured flutteringly. “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Comme ça?</i>” I repeated. -“But what do they call it?” “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">On -l’appelle comme ça</i>,” she said again more flutteringly -than before. We bandied this back -and forth until I thought we had struck an impasse -like that of the famous story where the -Englishman asks the Scotchman what there is -in haggis. The Scotchman begins to enumerate, -“There’s leeks intilt,” and the Englishman, -not understanding the word, interrupts, -“But what’s ‘<em>intilt</em>’?” “I’m telling ye,” says -the Scotchman, “there’s leeks intilt.” “But I -want to know what’s ‘<em>intilt</em>.’” “If ye’ll only -keep quiet ye’ll know what’s intilt. There’s -leeks....” And so it goes on forever.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> -Anna and I would probably be doing the same -until now, her voice growing more frightened -and fluttering each time, had I not lost patience -and exclaimed, “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Comme</i> <span class="allsmcap">QUOI</span>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mon Dieu</i>? -Say to me in German, ‘There’s a bureau in my -room.’” By which means I discovered that she -meant the same word, <em>commode</em>, was used in -German as in French.</p> - -<p>Perhaps this is as good a place as any to tell -a little more about our landlord and his family. -The Herr Secundärlehrer, as might be inferred, -taught in the higher grades at the big school-house, -with so many lovely mottoes painted outside, -at the edge of the village. He was evidently -proud of his learned calling, for his title -was inscribed on his cards and letterheads and -invariably appended to his signature. But that, -of course, is characteristically German. He -was a good-looking man of about thirty, his -face a trifle heavy in repose and just a little -weak, but lighting up charmingly when he -smiled. Like most Swiss, he carried himself -rather slouchily. I don’t know how strenuously -he may have labored during school hours, but -he was nearly always resting out of them. Not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -so his wife. She was a teacher in the primary -school, but that was merely an incident in her -life. She also kept the store and cared for her -three small children and took charge of the -family housekeeping (with the aid of the little -dienst-mädchen), did washing and sewing, and -along in the late twilight would be standing by -a table outside the door of the store (ready for -a customer if one should come) ironing till the -last ray of light faded. Or she and the dienst-mädchen -would take hoe and spade and weed -the cabbage patch or get the ground ready for -planting turnips. While they did that, the masculine -head of the family would sit on a bench -smoking. They don’t spoil their women in -Switzerland.</p> - -<p>That reminds me of the local newspaper we -subscribed to. It came three times a week and -once in a while contained an illustrated supplement, -with stories and poems, which were not -exciting, but highly moral. The news part contained, -besides local items of occasional interest, -a quaint little summary of what was going -on in the world, from the standpoint of the -Grindelwald valley, and delicious editorials on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> -such burning topics of the day as Love, Shakespeare, -or the Sphere of Woman.</p> - -<p>It was from the last that we culled the useful -phrase, “Housely Herd.” I was reading it -aloud to the assembled family, translating into -English as I went, “The good God is not -pleased,” I read (that editor was always well -posted as to the Almighty’s views and sentiments)—“The -good God is not pleased when -women leave the <em>housely herd</em> and force themselves -into business and professions for which -He never intended them.” Now of course I -should have translated “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">häuslicher Herd</i>,” -“domestic hearth,” but I honestly thought it -was housely herd at the moment, and the phrase -so beautifully expressed the masculine attitude -of this pastoral people toward their women -that it ought to have been true if it wasn’t. -We therefore put it into our daily vocabulary, -and the feminine part of the family joyously -referred to itself as the Housely Herd all the -rest of the season.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> Younger Babe made friends with an -Italian workman engaged in the construction -of a châlet half a mile up the road and was -presented by him with a piece of wall paper -about a foot square. He bore it home in triumph -and asked me to paste it up on the wall -above his bed. The comfort he took in that -reminder of what he regarded as civilization -was really touching. He said he didn’t mind -the house so much now that it had <em>some</em> wall -paper in it.</p> - -<p>Frater said afterwards that the Châlet Edelweiss -must have been conducted as a young -ladies’ boarding school previous to the arrival -of himself and Antonio. This is a mistake -on his part, but it is undoubtedly true that we -led a much more quiet and decorous life before -that invasion of Goth and Vandal. I am sure -that the Secundärlehrer and his Frau held a -much higher opinion of us at that time than -they did later. They had never had the advantage<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> -of living in an American college town and -were not educated up to “rough-house” nor -to the unholy noises which were liable to issue -from the Châlet at any hour of the day or night -and which led Belle Soeur to christen it our -private lunatic asylum.</p> - -<p>It is rather curious, as we were none of us -haters of our kind, that in the four months we -spent in Grindelwald we never exchanged a -word with any of the local English colony, -which is fairly numerous. Doubtless most of -the people who thronged the English chapel -of a Sunday were transients, but a good many -of the hotel people were there for the season, -and there were quite a number of English families -keeping house like ourselves in châlets, -though mostly on the other side of the village. -Somehow we seemed to be sufficient unto ourselves. -Our mountains gave us all the outside -company we wanted, and if ever we did pine -for human intercourse there was much more -“local color” in talking with Swiss peasants.</p> - -<p>Our wildest form of diversion before the -transatlantic contingent joined us was a picnic. -Mostly it was combined with a tramp too long<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> -to be taken comfortably in half a day, but the -Fourth of July picnic was celebrated very near -the house so that the Younger Babe and Suzanne -could accompany us. We chose a charming -level green spot beside a babbling Alpine -brook which the small boys nearly froze their -feet wading. It was shaded by a fine big tree -under whose branches we got an altogether -glorious view of the Wetterhorn and Upper -Glacier. The Fourth-of-Julyness was represented -by some diminutive American flags we -had purchased at a photograph shop in the -village and six of those engines of war euphoniously -yclept “nigger-chasers,” which we bought -(the entire stock) at the druggist’s. This was -the nearest we could come to fire-crackers. One -was fired when we got up in the morning, a -second after breakfast, one was reserved for -sunset, one went off at high noon, and the remaining -two immediately preceded and followed -the ceremony of lunch.</p> - -<p>Among our more distant picnics there stand -out in my memory the climb to the Grosse -Scheidegg and our two trips to the Männlichen.</p> - -<p>The first Männlichen trip was spoiled by the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> -weather. It is often impossible to tell on a -cloudy morning whether the day will prove good -or bad. This time we guessed wrong. Not -having as yet acquired the climbing habit, we -took the train to the Kleine Scheidegg and the -footpath from there to the Männlichen. Instead -of the early clouds blowing away, as we -thought they would, they closed in densely, so -that we found ourselves shivering in a thick -fog, unable to see twenty feet before our noses. -Still hoping the weather might change for the -better, we made our way along the path, which -was fortunately a perfectly plain and unmistakable -one. The path in places ran between -snow banks as high as our heads, and except -these banks we saw no scenery. We sat down -on a damp stone and ate our lunch, which was -curiously cheerless. The weather grew worse -and worse. Finally, just as it was beginning -to rain hard, there loomed out of the mist -ahead of us the Männlichen Inn, where we were -more than glad to find shelter, hot milk and tea, -and a fire.</p> - -<p>The rain came down in torrents for several -hours. By the time it let up, it was too late<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> -to catch the afternoon train at Scheidegg. Of -course the sensible thing to do would have been -to make up our minds to spend the night at the -Männlichen Inn. But we had made no provisions -for staying away over-night and knew that -Suzanne and Anna would be very much alarmed -at our failure to return.</p> - -<p>Besides, the prospect of passing the rest of -the afternoon and evening at that viewless inn, -with nothing to read and nothing to do, was -nowise alluring. So when it stopped raining -and the clouds rolled down the mountain-side -an eighth of a mile or so, we announced our intention -of taking the footpath down to Grindelwald.</p> - -<p>The waitress who pointed out the beginning -of it to us plainly thought we were crazy, and -perhaps we were. For two women and a small -boy to start out at four o’clock in the afternoon -to walk seven miles down a rain-soaked -mountain-side, hunting for a path which for the -first few miles would be a rude cow track, no -different from countless others which would -cross it or branch off from it, knowing that if -they got lost or night overtook them they would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> -find no human habitation to shelter them—well, -it didn’t sound sensible! But the gods who protect -the imprudent were with us.</p> - -<p>We started down light-heartedly enough, -glad to be on the move again, scrambling over -rocks, swinging across the grassy places as fast -as the clinging mud would let us, counteracting -the chill of advancing evening by the strenuousness -of the exercise we were taking. Once we -had the good luck to meet a herd of cows from -whose guardians we got a new set of directions. -And again, just at a place where we were badly -puzzled, we saw a lad toiling upward with an -empty milk can on his back, whom we hailed -and questioned.</p> - -<p>Of course this sort of questioning is not an -exact science. It must be remembered that our -German was far from fluent, and that those -people talked a local dialect very considerably -different from the language of Goethe and -Schiller, that they belonged to the dull, inarticulate -section of the population and were not over-fond -of foreigners. Moreover, everything in -Switzerland has a name of its own, and the -topographical directions of a peasant bristle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> -always with unfamiliar proper names, which one -strains one’s ear to catch, wildly guessing -whether they refer to a forest, a pasturage or -a group of châlets. All distances are given in -time, which is vague at best, and may differ -radically as between a Swiss cowherd in training -and two American women with a small boy.</p> - -<p>An unusually clear-spoken and intelligent native -might discourse as follows: “In a quarter -of an hour you will be at Hinter der Egg. Do -not turn off to the right at Eggboden. Cross -the Gundelgraben and continue down for an -hour through the Raufte. When you reach -Geyscheur you will see two paths. You may -take either. Both lead to Grund. You are -two and a half hours from Grindelwald.” -Usually, it is much more involved. And remember -that you are hearing everyone of those -blessed names for the first time. Two turn -out to be cheese huts, one a stream, one a -meadow, one a group of three or four dwelling-houses, -and the last the bottom of the slope -where the Lütschine runs through. But you -don’t learn that from the man who is giving -you directions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span></p> - -<p>I never knew such a long seven miles. It -seemed as if Grindelwald receded as fast as we -advanced. We tore along the last part of the -time, each taking a hand of the Babe, almost -running, to keep the night from catching us -on the mountain-side. It was nearly dark before -we got home, but as the last part of our -way was over the familiar highroad, it did not -matter. The Châlet Edelweiss looked like -a terrestrial paradise, and never was there a -sensation more luxurious than shedding our -wet, muddy clothes in favor of peignoirs and -putting our tired feet into bedroom slippers, -unless it was furnished by the good hot dinner -that followed.</p> - -<p>The other Männlichen trip was vastly different. -The day was clear as a bell—radiant, -perfect. We walked down to the Grund station -and took the train as far as Alpiglen only, -about half way to the Scheidegg. You see we -were learning to climb by then. We took a -lovely (though sometimes unfindable) cross-slanting -path from there to the Männlichen, -and all the way kept opening up more and more -glorious vistas. Starting with a backward look<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> -into the Grindelwald Valley and at our own -Wetterhorn and Eiger, we uncovered the -Mönch first and then the Jungfrau, with her -beautiful shining sub-peaks, the Silberhorn and -Schneehorn, and finally, when we got to the -top of the ridge, there was that surprising -hole in the ground, the Lauterbrunnen Valley, -with all its waterfalls tumbling down the rock -walls of the opposite side. Beyond were more -snow mountains and to the westward Lake -Thun and Lake Brienz, Interlaken and more -snow mountains. I do truly think the view -from the Männlichen is the finest in Switzerland, -if not in the whole world. The view -from the Gornergrat is a wilderness of glaciers, -utterly magnificent, but lacking in variety. The -view from the Rigi is a panorama of distant -objects and lacks the stupendous foreground -supplied for the Männlichen by that trio of -colossi, Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau.</p> - -<p>Our sandwiches and cake were a feast of -the gods that day, with heaven and earth spread -out above, below and all around us—green in -the valley, white on the mountains, blue overhead. -We came home by the path we had followed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -so sloppily and doubtfully that other day -and found it perfectly plain, much shorter and -wonderfully transformed as to looks. I remember -that we carried home armloads of Alpenroses -gathered on the higher slopes.</p> - -<p>Of our tramp to the Grosse Scheidegg, the -most striking feature was the attack of “mountain -sickness” Belle Soeur had just before -reaching the summit. It is an unpleasant sort -of thing consisting of palpitation of the heart, -faintness, nausea, and turning a greenish white. -The proper treatment is to lie down till it passes -off and take some cognac. We hadn’t any cognac -along that day, so poor Belle Soeur could -only lie down and wait till it got ready to go -away. The Scheidegg is only 6400 feet high. -She never felt it again at any such level as that, -but encountered it on the Gries Pass at about -8000 feet and going over the Strahlegg at somewhere -near 10,000. We always made a practice -after the first time of carrying a small cognac -flask along whenever we were making an -ascent.</p> - -<p>The view from the Scheidegg is interesting,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> -but not at all in the same class as the Männlichen -outlook.</p> - -<p>We came home by way of the Grindel Alp -pastures and encountered great herds of cattle, -and wondered whether it was our duty to be -afraid of them, but decided it wasn’t. We lost -our path and tried to cut across the meadows -without one. It looked very easy. We could -see the roof of our own house plainly several -miles distant, but the streams we had to cross, -which ran often through deep ravines, made it -hard and sometimes a little risky. There was -one beautiful spot on a crag overhanging a -stream where we fully intended to return some -day to picnic, but we never could find it again!</p> - -<p>That was the day we learned the wonderfully -resting effect on tired and swollen feet -of bathing them in the ice-cold water of a -mountain stream.</p> - -<p>In those early days, before the Transatlantics -arrived, the Chronicler used to put in several -hours a day in the polishing of her new novel, -the Elder Babe used to have lessons, Belle -Soeur had an attack of sewing and turned out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> -wonderful confections for her wardrobe, and -we all improved our minds with Swiss history. -I say “improved our minds” advisedly, for it -certainly did not amuse us. Why is it that, -with all the dramatic material at hand, some -one doesn’t write a history of Switzerland that -the ordinary reader can peruse without going -to sleep? Something must be allowed of -course for the fact that we were not living -in the history-hallowed part of Switzerland. -Nothing ever happened in the Grindelwald -Valley except a battle in 1191, between the -Duke of Zaeringen and some recalcitrant nobles -who did not like his populistic tendencies. -The Duke won the battle and straightway -founded Berne and endowed its burghers with -all sorts of privileges, the more to annoy the -nobles. Or perhaps his motives were really -high and altruistic and he would have been glad -if he could have foreseen that the Bernese -burghers would eventually down nobles and -sovereign too. But I really don’t think that -we were so lacking in imagination that we could -not have been interested in the doings of the -Eidgenossen in the Forest Cantons, over the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> -Brünig to the eastward, only a few miles after -all, if the histories, French and English alike, -had not been so deadly dull.</p> - -<p>It is not only the histories either. There is -something very unsatisfactory about <em>all</em> the literature -concerning Switzerland. Much of it is -painstakingly constructed out of guide-books -like Rollo’s Adventures. Some of the things -that are best as literature were written by men -who got their impressions at second hand. -Schiller wrote Tell and Scott wrote Anne of -Geierstein without ever having set foot on Swiss -soil. The Swissness of both reminds one of -Dr. Johnson’s remark about women’s writing -poetry and dogs walking on their hind legs. -It is not to be expected that they should do it -<em>well</em>, but the surprising thing is that they should -be able to do it at all!</p> - -<p>Now Byron did live up at Wengern Alp just -over the Kleine Scheidegg while he was writing -Manfred, and the other day I read it over, anticipating -much. Time was when I thought -Manfred one of the greatest dramatic poems -ever written. It gave me all sort of thrills and -creeps. But this rereading was a grievous disappointment.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> -There are a few fine lines, but -most of the descriptions are cheap, tawdry and -conventional, fit accompaniments to a third-rate -melodramatic attempt at clothing in false sentiment -a theme essentially rotten.</p> - -<p>Hyperion is another old-time favorite that -I have just reread with a chill of disappointment. -The dear poet was obviously bored by -a solitary tramp he took to the Grimsel. He -got the blues in Interlaken when it rained -(which was not surprising), he saw the Jungfrau -from the hotel piazza, took a drive to the -Lauterbrunnen Valley, and for the rest had no -eyes for anything except that uninteresting girl, -Mary Ashburton. The Swiss color of it all -is distinctly thin.</p> - -<p>The tales of high climbing are often thrilling -as adventures, but are usually written by people -who don’t know how to write. And one who -has not been bitten by the Alpinist mania can -not help feeling that so much daring and energy -might have been better expended than in breaking -records and necks. It is really a species of -insanity, this high-climbing passion. The world -and its standards must be curiously out of focus<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> -to its victims. They don’t even pay any attention -to scenery. Much of their climbing is -done in the dark (between two <span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span> and day-break) -and they are always too pressed for time -to stop to look at a view, their brief rests being -scientifically calculated to restore their exhausted -mind and muscles. Tyndall’s books -are extremely satisfactory in their way. He -was an enthusiastic climber, without being a -crank on the subject, had a scientific object in -his trips and a considerable literary gift in describing -them.</p> - -<p>In general, I suppose it is true that where -nature is so overpoweringly magnificent, art is -dwarfed. Those who deeply feel the sublimity -of it all hold their peace, and it is only the -superficial who go home and slop over in printed -twaddle. Of whose number the present Chronicler, -thus self-confessedly, is one.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]<br /><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">On</span> the epoch-making twenty-first day of -July, Frater and Antonio tramped into -our lives with knapsacks on their backs. We -were not expecting them till the next day. -Frater had written from somewhere up the -Rhine that they would strike us about the 22nd. -In a small parenthesis he had added that they -<em>might</em> arrive by the 21st, but Frater’s hand-writing, -being of the kind sacred to genius, I -had not read this part. They had come up on -the train from Interlaken, but of course we had -not met them at the station, and no one could -tell them where we lived. They wandered out -the highroad to the Upper Glacier, and as it -appeared quite evident we did not live on the -ice-fall or the Wetterhorn cliffs, they turned -back again. Some one told them our châlet -was on the mountain-side, and they started up a -path, but met a peasant of whom they inquired -again. This individual, after stroking his chin -in silent rumination for some time, suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> -shot out his forefinger in the direction of the -Châlet Edelweiss and said “Dort!” with -such convincing emphasis that they started -down again across the fields. Thus it happened -that our first glimpse of them was from -a most unexpected direction, dropping out of -the clouds as it were, or, to be accurate, climbing -over one of the rare fences behind and -above us. We were not sure of their identity -at first, but the long legs and Cornell sweaters -looked familiar, and Belle Soeur on the balcony -ventured to wave a greeting which was enthusiastically -returned.</p> - -<p>We had been just about sitting down to tea, -and I remember the singular inadequacy of the -biscuit supply. Retiring to the kitchen I hastily -sent off Anna to the village for more of -everything for dinner, and it was well that I -did so. I had been catering for a family of -women and children so long that it took some -days to get adjusted to the new circumstances, -and we were perpetually running up against -unexpected vacuums. Anna and Suzanne were -as much distressed over the increased expenditures -as if they had been personally footing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> -the bills and often cut us short on things that -we really had plenty of just from their instinct -of thriftiness.</p> - -<p>We spent the four intervening days before -the Mother’s arrival in showing the boys the -immediate neighborhood of Grindelwald. -They were still a little quiet and shy, especially -Antonio, and the process of transforming the -Young Ladies’ Boarding School into the Private -Lunatic Asylum was not yet in visible operation.</p> - -<p>The Mother had been entirely explicit as to -the time of <em>her</em> arrival, and we walked down -to Interlaken to meet her—Belle Soeur, Frater, -Antonio, the Elder Babe and I. It was fourteen -miles, and although it was down grade on -a fine highroad, as we had to arrive at noon, -we made an early start. Even so, we had to -move at so lively a pace that the poor Babe with -his short legs was kept on a trot. The Babe, -however, is game, and he had no notion in the -world of letting his grandmother arrive, unmet -by him.</p> - -<p>We lined up on the pier, dusty and thirsty, -a bare five minutes ahead of the Lake Brienz<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> -steamer——. There it comes, puffing along, -tourists thronging the decks! Where is she? -Has she missed connections after all? If we -have come all this way, and she isn’t there—Ah! -But she <em>is</em> there!</p> - -<p>It is Antonio who has spied her. Wildly -waving their hats, he and Frater lift up the -strains of the Aguinaldo chorus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Well, am I the boss or am I the show?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Am I the Governor General or a ho-o-bo?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Well, I’d like to know</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who’s arunning this show!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Is it me or Emilio Aguinaldo?”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>It was the first time Belle Soeur and I had -heard this beautiful ditty, as we had been out -of the country for a year or more. I think it -must have been the first time the people on the -wharf and steamer had heard it, too, for they -looked at the stalwart performers in some surprise. -But the Mother, who had spent the -previous winter in Ithaca and helped the boys -graduate the month before, was thoroughly accustomed -to it and would doubtless have had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> -her feelings hurt if she had been greeted in -any other way.</p> - -<p>It was at this point that Frater committed -the crime of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">lèse majesté</i>, infanticide and arson -all rolled into one. As the little steamer came -up near the wharf he stepped across the foot -or so of intervening water onto the lower deck -with the sinful intention of greeting his mother -two minutes sooner and carrying her satchel -ashore. As his foot touched the deck, he was -seized by two employees of the steamer in a -state of excitement bordering on apoplexy. It -was against the rules—against <em>all</em> the rules! -No one was allowed on the steamer until all the -passengers had come ashore by the gang-plank. -“Oh, all right,” said Frater good-naturedly, -“I’ll go back on the wharf if it worries you,” -and he started to step back. At that they became -still more excited and held him tighter -than ever. That also was against the rules. -No one could go ashore except over the gang-plank. -Also nobody could go ashore without -giving up his ticket. Frater had no ticket, of -course. What were they going to do about it? -They did not know. They would see. Such<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> -an emergency had never occurred before and -there were no precedents. He was to wait till -all the passengers had gone off, and then they -would decide. All this was said in wild and -very imperfectly comprehended German. There -was no one around who spoke either French -or English. Frater had joined the Mother, -who waited with him for the passengers to go -ashore, in some perturbation of spirit as to what -was to be done to her son. Of course <em>nothing</em> -was done. They walked ashore after the -others. But the double line of uniformed employees -through whom they passed were still -barely able to repress their excitement, and -their lowering brows would have struck terror -to more timorous hearts. It was really as -though some form of sacrilege had been committed, -which they had decided to overlook in -the interests of international comity. This was -the only time we ever ran up against any of the -Powers that Be in our wanderings, which, everything -considered, was, I think, doing uncommonly -well.</p> - -<p>Frater and the Mother being safely restored -to us, the late exciting incident became one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> -thing more to laugh about, and it was a very -merry party who sat down to eat a picnic lunch -in a secluded spot beside the Aar, and washed -it down, subsequently, with Munich beer on -draft at a near-by out-door restaurant, and -caught the Grindelwald train, and were met at -the station by Suzanne and the Younger Babe, -running down the road hand in hand, a trifle -late and greatly out of breath. The Mother, -her baggage, and the Babes were piled into the -Red-headed Man’s carriage, and the rest of us -marched behind singing the Aguinaldo chorus. -You see we were already beginning to thaw out. -The Chronicler, no longer Senior Officer Present, -felt that her extreme dignity could now be -safely relaxed. Frater never <em>was very</em> shy, and -Antonio was getting acquainted.</p> - -<p>I think, at the risk of being considered a -gossip, I shall have to tell how those two young -men got to us, because it was so thoroughly -characteristic. They hadn’t either of them the -money to spend on a European trip and had -intended going to work at their respective professions -of electrical and mechanical engineering -as soon as they left college: but what I had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> -written of our location in Switzerland, the -Mother’s intention of spending the summer -with us, and my entirely sincere, but also entirely -unexpecting suggestion that they should -“come along too” set them to thinking and -planning. They went down to New York, -shipped on a cattle steamer and worked their -way to Antwerp, walked across Belgium, came -up the Rhine by boat (third class) and across -by rail, also third class, from Basel. It had -taken them about a month from New York, -and they had seen a great many interesting -things and places and had spent, as I remember, -in the neighborhood of twenty dollars -apiece!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> next week was devoted to introducing -the Mother to her new surroundings. -Our trips were limited by her tendency to -get asthma when climbing and her inability -to go anywhere near the edge of a precipice. -Even when the path was several feet wide, as -on the way to the Bäregg, the consciousness of -a down-drop made her “dizzy in the knees.” -But there were plenty of beautiful walks to -take within these limits. And her enthusiasm -over the life and the land would have inspired -the rest of us if we had not been already profoundly -convinced of the blessedness of our -lot.</p> - -<p>We did one thing during this interval which -I don’t doubt would brand us as proper inmates -for a lunatic asylum in the esteem of all the -good respectable conventional people in the -world. We spent a night on the Männlichen -rolled up in steamer rugs watching the moon! -Frater proposed it first to me. He and I have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> -a fondness for the Voices of the Night and have -roughed it enough together to know we can -sleep on the ground now and then without catching -cold or feeling cross next morning. Belle -Soeur and Antonio decided that they wanted -to come too, and the noble spirit in which they -bore the hardships of the occasion proved that -they were qualified for admission to the Inner -Circle.</p> - -<p>We left in the afternoon, a little later than -we should have done, for we were rather heavily -loaded down with jackets and rugs and our -prospective supper, and we were going all the -way on foot this time by the direct Männlichen -path, which we had only come down before, -and it takes longer to go up than to come down! -However, by pressing our steps to a slightly -uncomfortable degree, we got to the summit -<em>just</em> in time for sunset.</p> - -<p>The scene of the next few minutes before -the blood red had faded from the west, is one -of the pictures indelibly burned into my memory. -We stood there silently drinking it in, -the boys for the first time, Belle Soeur and I -loving it the more for having known it before.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> -For a while we watched the details blurring -under the on-stealing twilight. Then hunger -asserted itself, and we found a place below the -summit, somewhat sheltered from the biting -winds, where we perched ourselves on a ridge -like crows and did ample justice to the contents -of the paper parcels that the boys drew -from their knapsacks.</p> - -<p>Then it occurred to us that we had better use -the small remaining aftermath of daylight to -find some spots sheltered from the wind and -level enough to sleep on. It seems absurd to -say that on the whole mountain-side there was -no place level enough to lie down on without -slipping off. Yet it was very nearly true. The -summit was swept by a blast of icy wind. The -snow-drifts had disappeared since we were there -a month before, but it was still very cold after -the warming sun had retired for the night. -On the Lauterbrunnen side there was just plain -precipice, on the Grindelwald side a very steep -descent divided between stones and grass. After -much searching we established ourselves on a -little shelf, barely wide enough for a person to -lie on and sloping down just enough for one to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> -feel as if one was about to roll off. There was -nothing to hold on to, so we dug our feet into -the ground in a more or less futile attempt to -secure what Frater described as a “toe-grip.” -There was a low growth of thistles in our neighborhood, -too, which drove their prickles -through our steamer rugs in a rather unpleasant -fashion.</p> - -<p>Soon the weather began to behave badly. -Great banks of clouds came up out of the depths -and covered the region where the moon was -due to rise. The stars twinkled brightly overhead, -but, barring a sudden change in cloud -conditions, it was evident that no moon would -be visible before the middle of the night. We -hoped against hope so long as we could, keeping -up a desultory talk and a little soft-pedal -singing. Then each rolled up in his or her -steamer rug, sought six feet of shelf room, and—eventually—fell -asleep.</p> - -<p>I was awakened by a very penetrating chill -in the marrow of my spinal column, and opening -my eyes, saw that there was a dim pale -radiance over the universe that had been lacking -when I went to sleep. I spoke very low.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> -Frater answered. We crawled out of our rugs -and clambered up to the Männlichen summit.</p> - -<p>I wonder if human eyes ever rested on a -scene of more eerie loveliness? The moon -struggled through and upward at last into the -open sky, and the clouds broke away enough so -that great masses of the Eiger-Mönch-Jungfrau -group came into sight, looking even more -stupendously huge from being partly hidden. -The valleys seemed bottomless abysses—their -floors four thousand feet below being utterly -lost in blackness. And on the other side of the -Lauterbrunnen Valley the billowy snow peaks, -quite free from clouds, rolled away, all silver -in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>What a scene for some stupendous cosmic -drama with spirits of the earth and air for actors! -How did we dare to intrude on their -vigils—mere prying interlopers that we were?</p> - -<p>Every once in a while we had to stamp around -violently and swing our arms to get warm. -Otherwise we sat quite still and almost silent, -feeling the way one ought to feel in church, -but mostly doesn’t.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span></p> - -<p>At last the clouds caught up with the moon -and hid it, and we stumbled sleepily down and -found our rugs and sections of ledge again.</p> - -<p>Just before sunrise it was Antonio who was -awake and ready to accompany me to the summit. -The others were sleeping the sleep of -the just and declined to be aroused. It was -wonderfully beautiful again—the rebirth of the -hidden world, the mountains thrusting up their -mighty shoulders above the foamy cloud-sea -that filled the valleys into the faint pink glow -which was gone almost as soon as seen. As -soon as the glamour of the sunrise had faded -we knew that we were ravenously hungry, and -shaking the sleepers into a similar conviction, -we started for the Männlichen Inn and hot coffee -and rolls and honey.</p> - -<p>I do not know where the people at the Inn -supposed we had dropped from at that hour. -No questions were asked and no information -volunteered. The breakfast was excellent and -we set out for home much refreshed. Little -by little, as we walked, our cramped muscles -limbered and our chilled blood warmed—warmed -too much, in fact, before we reached -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span>the Châlet at midday with those ton-a-piece -steamer rugs over our shoulders.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_079"><img src="images/i_079.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="496" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Mönch and Jungfrau from the Männlichen</i></p> -</div> - -<p>The moon had not done all we had expected -of it. But we felt it was proved that the quartette -was of the “right stuff” and could safely -venture on a fortnight’s pedestrian trip.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]<br /><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> morning we started out on our first -memorable pedestrian tour, the Mother -and the Elder Babe accompanied us to where -the Grosse Scheidegg path turns off from the -highroad, Suzanne, Anna and the Younger -Babe having previously waved us out of sight -from the balcony of the Châlet.</p> - -<p>I felt some qualms of prospective homesickness -as I left them and a twinge of conscience -lest one of the Babes might get sick or the -Mother have trouble with the housekeeping, -but by the time we had dropped over on the -other side of the Scheidegg ridge and could no -longer see the red roof of our Châlet, I had -lost my misgivings and began to enjoy my vacation. -I had not felt so completely free from -the harness for Heaven knows how long, and -as I walked along I could feel the years sliding -off of me and hear them thud as they struck -the ground. I think I must have halted somewhere -about the sixteen-year-old point. That’s -the way I felt, at least. And it is an interesting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> -fact that I was addressed uniformly as -Fräulein or Mademoiselle by strangers all the -rest of the season. The short skirt may have -had something to do with it, but the Swiss are -entirely used to even elderly ladies in short -dresses.</p> - -<p>Perhaps our outfit may be of some interest. -My own skirt and jacket were of corduroy, and -I don’t think the material could be improved -upon. Nothing else will stand so much sun -and rain and dust and mud and still look decent. -With this, downward, gaiters of the same and -heavy-soled hob-nailed boots. Upward, a dark -linen shirt waist and a feather-weight Swiss -straw hat, with a brim broad enough to protect -from the sun. One should have the trimmings -of one’s hat of a warranted-fast color. I did -not and suffered accordingly. The hat I started -out with was trimmed with a garland of red -poppies, and the effect of the first heavy rain -was fearful and wonderful to behold. The -next was trimmed with ribbon and suffered almost -as badly. The third was adorned with -a Scotch plaid that really rose superior to -weather.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span></p> - -<p>The boys made no special preparation for -the trip except to have the soles of their boots -well studded with nails and to invest each in -a soft felt Swiss hat, warranted to stand any -weather, and to stick fast in any wind. Each -of us had strapped over the shoulders a light -canvas <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Rückensack</i>, containing the absolutely -essential (reduced to the last irreducible minimum) -for a week. We had planned to have -clean clothes meet us by mail at Zermatt at -the end of that time. The Swiss mailing arrangements -are ideal, and one can send a good-sized -hamper anywhere for a few cents. In -the same manner we got rid of our soiled clothes -by mailing them home. Belle Soeur and I -carried alpenstocks, having found them a real -help in climbing steep paths and even more so -in coming down. The boys despised them as -tourist-like and amateurish and would have -nothing to do with them. When we took off -our jackets we put them through the straps -across our shoulders so that our hands (barring -the friendly alpenstocks) were always free. -We didn’t bother with umbrellas or raincoats, -none of us being liable to colds.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span></p> - -<p>We ate our luncheon soon after we dropped -over the Scheidegg into the Rosenlaui Valley. -The character of the landscape had changed -already. We sat on a slope adorned by a group -of Christmas trees and a highly decorative herd -of cattle and saw our old friend the Wetterhorn -in an entirely unfamiliar shape and looked -with interest at the queer rock wings of the -Engelhörner.</p> - -<p>Having consumed our last reminder of -Home and Mother, we pushed on, presently -finding ourselves racing for the Rosenlaui hotel -against up-piling clouds that obviously held -rain. The clouds beat, but we got there in -time to save ourselves from an absolute drenching -and sat in a summer-house for some time, -drinking a form of fizzy water which had evidently -(from its price) been diluted with liquid -gold.</p> - -<p>If a baptism of fire is the critical moment in -the life of a young soldier, I take it that the -baptism of rain is the touchstone for the inexperienced -pedestrian. If you preserve the -Smile-that-won’t-come-off when your shoes are -soaked through and the water goes chunk-chunk<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> -inside of them, and the mud clings to -the outside, and the rain trickles down your -neck—inside the collar, and your wet skirts -flap about your ankles (if you’re a man you’re -spared <em>that</em>), and the thick clouds shut out all -the mountains you came to see,—why then -you’ve won your spurs.</p> - -<p>When the serious part of the rain was over -and we felt that we could afford no more gold-flavored -Apollinaris and had no other excuse for -lingering, we continued down that water-logged -valley. Frater and I kept up our spirits by -singing everything we knew, from Suwannee -River to Anheuser Busch, but it really wasn’t -fair, because Antonio has a musical ear and -must have suffered a lot. We saw some waterfalls, -but were too wet ourselves to be much -cheered by them.</p> - -<p>We did get some amusement, though, out of -a solitary French pedestrian who asked us if -we had encountered any rain. The question -was so absurdly superfluous in view of the rain-soaked -condition of ourselves and the whole -world, that we made him repeat it several times -before we gave him a grave and final affirmative.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> -I think he felt lonely and thought he -would like to join our party, but we choked off -his little attempts at conversation and shook -him without compunction. One has to draw -the line <em>some</em>where, and we drew it at making -acquaintances with any one except the native -peasants, and <em>they</em> usually drew the line on <em>us</em>!</p> - -<p>Emerging into the Meiringen Valley into -which the Rosenlaui opens, we quickly decided -against Meiringen as too large and sophisticated -a place to be interesting, and, moreover, -several miles out of our way. There was a -village almost straight in front of us which rejoiced -in two names, Innertkirchen and Imhof. -This was unfortunate, as whatever native we -asked the road of always seemed to know it -only by the other name. It proved an elusive -place. We took the wrong turn several times, -and it was beginning to get dark, and it was a -long time since lunch, and this was our first -night as tramps.</p> - -<p>We were not made happier by catching up -with the principal inn at last and finding it full. -The other one, on the extreme edge of the village, -seemed hardly more promising at first,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> -for the landlady said she had just two rooms -left, one with one bed and the other with three. -However, a little persuasion reminded her that -there was another little single room in the third -story, if one of the young gentlemen didn’t -mind. We were not disposed to be critical. -They matched pennies for it, and Antonio was -relegated to the loft.</p> - -<p>This inn, with the all-but-universal name of -Alpenrose, proved a good specimen of the -plain, clean, honest and inexpensive Swiss type. -We encountered for the first time a system of -two-priced <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">table d’hôte</i>, of which we were given -our choice, the difference being not in the quality -of the food, but in the number of courses. -Thus: Will you have soup and one kind of -meat with vegetables, followed by fruit, at one -franc fifty, or soup, two kinds of meat with -vegetables, and salad before the fruit, at two -fifty? We chose the cheaper and had plenty, -in spite of our fine appetites. Belle Soeur and -I were also indulging in one-franc-fifty lodgings -for the first time. The boys knew all about -them from their experience between Antwerp -and Grindelwald.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span></p> - -<p>The dining-room had various Schützenfest -prizes hung up around the walls, and we had -our ideas of these functions broadened and our -appreciation of our own Herr Secundärlehrer’s -<em>first</em> prize achievement quickened, when we -found that one was labeled the fifty-seventh -and another the <em>eighty-first</em> prize!</p> - -<p>When we emerged on the dusky balcony after -dinner, two mysterious figures were sitting there -whom we took to be nuns in some form of religious -habit. This theory was shaken when -we observed a lighted pipe in the mouth of -one, and closer scrutiny developed a moustache -on the upper lip of the other. We finally -learned from the hotel register that they were -German students on a pedestrian trip, the nun-like -effect being given by voluminous cloaks -with peaked hoods drawn over their heads. -They must have been joyous things to carry -on a walking trip—worse than the steamer rugs -we dragged up the Männlichen!</p> - -<p>To our surprise, as soon as it was dark, bonfires -began to break forth from surrounding -mountain-tops. We asked if this illumination -was the regular thing in the Meiringen Valley<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> -and learned that the first of August is the Swiss -form of Fourth of July and that they were celebrating -the oath of the Eidgenossen on the -heights of Rütli. They were doing the same -thing in Grindelwald and indeed all over the -republic.</p> - -<p>We wandered into the village to see if any -other form of celebration was going on, but it -was all as quiet as a Presbyterian Sunday. The -only noisy thing we could find was the “Infant -Aar” brawling foamily down under a covered -wooden bridge. We hung over its parapets -for some time, listening to the racket it made -and watching the blazing fires along the mountain-tops, -while Belle Soeur and I tried to impart -such knowledge as we had been able to -gather concerning the worthy representatives -of the Forest Cantons, Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden, -who bound themselves by oath somewhere -back in the twelve hundreds, to drive -out the Austrians and make their country free. -Frater and Antonio did not mind being <em>told</em>, -in small doses, but after a brief glance at our -improving assortment of Swiss histories, they -had politely and firmly declined to <em>read</em> them.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]<br /><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Our</span> second day’s tramp was perhaps the -severest test we met of temper and endurance. -We had purposely planned for an -easy day—about fourteen miles by excellent -highroad (a diligence route) to the Grimsel -Hospice. We had four thousand feet to climb, -but distributed over fourteen miles of carefully -graded road, this was not very terrifying. It -was a test only because we had not yet shaken -down into the habit of continuous tramping. -At Grindelwald, after an all-day’s walk, we always -rested the next day. So we got up feeling -loggy and lazy, muscles still tired and feet -a bit sore. And the situation was made worse -by the weather. We had a series of showers -to contend against with clouds between whiles.</p> - -<p>The rain is the worst thing about Switzerland. -Of course if there was not so much of -it, the valleys and lower slopes would not be so -beautifully green. And sometimes there are -several weeks of unbroken sunshine when one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> -feels promoted to Heaven ahead of time. But, -on the other hand, one has sometimes a straight -fortnight of rain, unspeakably depressing, roads -afloat with mud and all the mountains shut out -from view. Even the on-and-off showers are -trying and apt to trail a skyful of clouds before -and after them.</p> - -<p>On leaving Imhof we invested in bread, -cheese, and chocolate for luncheon (the only -articles of food the village store afforded) and -started lazily up the Hasli valley. Everybody -passed us, but we didn’t care. We were not -making records and had plenty of time. It is a -narrow valley, pretty rather than imposing, with -the Infant Aar running down the bottom of it -and the road occupying a ledge just above. -Baedeker calls it the Infant Aar. It is so seldom -that matter-of-fact condenser of useful information -indulges in descriptive epithets that his -occasional poetic flights always filled us with -joy, and none of us, I am sure, will ever think -of the tempestuous mountain torrent we followed -all that day upwards towards its cradle, -except as the Infant Aar.</p> - -<p>We took refuge during one shower under a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> -ledge of rock and were lucky enough to strike -a roadside refreshment house for another, -where we regaled ourselves with hot milk—a -surprisingly restful and thirst-quenching beverage -when one is “on the road,” and, in Switzerland, -almost invariably good.</p> - -<p>We discovered a lovely bosky spot for our -luncheon, where the valley floor spread out a -bit and the Infant split itself into streamlets, -forming little wooded, ferny, rocky islets. A -profusion of huckleberries were growing in this -sequestered region, and we found they made -an excellent dessert (though somewhat soured -by the rain) after our dry and not too substantial -luncheon.</p> - -<p>It was here that we lost Antonio. He wandered -off with his camera while we were resting -after luncheon and did not come back. We -called him and hunted for him till Frater said -he must have gone on ahead and would doubtless -be waiting for us at the next turn of the -road. He knew Antonio better than the rest -of us did, and claimed that this would be a -highly characteristic procedure—that it would -never occur to him we did not know where he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> -was. So we went on with rather forced cheerfulness. -I confess to feeling uneasy. The Aar -was a lusty and distinctly rapid Infant, and if, -in jumping across to one of those islets to take -a picture, he had lost his footing?——Frater -jeered at my forebodings and brazenly took a -photograph of our late picnic grounds, labeling -it “last place where Antonio was seen alive” -and saying I could send it to his mother. But -Antonio was not at the first turn of the road -nor the next, nor the next, and we sat down -to take counsel.</p> - -<p>We were engaged in a mournfully jocular -manner in composing a letter to his family to -announce his mysterious disappearance, when -we heard a delightfully unghostlike halloa from -the road behind us, and presently the strayed -lamb came into sight. He had actually fallen -asleep among the huckleberry bushes which had -concealed him from our view, and had not -heard us call him, but having found the note -we left among the cheese rinds (we always left -notes for each other when separated) he had -started along at a rapid gait to overtake us—and -he would never have <em>dreamed</em> of such<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> -a thing as going ahead without telling us.... -It’s all well that ends well, and the reunited -family proceeded happily.</p> - -<p>The Handegg Falls were the chief incident -of the afternoon. A person familiar with -Niagara and Yosemite is not going to burst his -heart with rapture over any of the Swiss waterfalls. -Some are beautiful, some are wild, but -all are on a small scale.</p> - -<p>The Handegg, though, is among the most -satisfactory. The Infant Aar furnishes a respectable -volume of water and takes a plunge -here of two hundred and forty feet. Moreover, -there is an admirable place to view it from, -an overhanging ledge on a level with the top -of the falls. And the rainbow in the spray -is charming.</p> - -<p>Along about sunset, after we had risen above -timber line, we came upon a tiny road-house -kept by an old man and his daughter. Here, -on a little table just outside the door we decided -to take our supper of what the house -afforded—hot milk, bread and soft-boiled eggs. -We absorbed large quantities of this simple but -nourishing fare, moved our chairs inside when<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span> -the rain began, and tried to persuade our hosts -to put us up for the night. They had absolutely -no sleeping accommodations, however, -except for themselves, so perforce, when the -rain let up, we continued along the chilly, desolate -and rapidly darkening road to the Grimsel -Hospice.</p> - -<p>That is surely one of the barrenest spots on -God’s earth. There is a bowl-shaped hollow -full of stones. There is a lake at the bottom, -when we first saw it, inky black. There is a -one-story building whose stone walls, some -three feet thick, were built to withstand winter -storms. This used to be a hospice kept for -travelers by monks like the famous one of St. -Bernard, but now it its a hotel run for profit -and patronized by Alpinists and passing tourists. -The snow peaks rise up all around the -bowl, and Finsteraarhorn, the highest mountain -of the Oberland, dwarfed from Grindelwald -by nearer giants, here shows up more -nearly in its true proportions. But Finsteraarhorn -is really a climber’s peak, and we were -not to know it intimately till much later.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_099"><img src="images/i_099.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="497" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Grimsel Hospice</em></p> -</div> - -<p>Our three-franc-apiece sleeping accommodations<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> -seemed quite sophisticated after the one-fifty -lodgings of the night before, and the reading-room -in which we gathered to discuss maps -and plans for the morrow, quite a model of -luxury. We wrote some letters, too, not knowing -when we should have so good a chance -again. It was quite a cosmopolitan bunch of -envelopes we put into the mail-box—one for -the Mother in Grindelwald, of course, one to -the Husband in the Philippines, two or three -addressed to the United States, and one to -Antonio’s parents in Brazil.</p> - -<p>Have I mentioned that Antonio is a Brazilian? -He is not, however, the undiluted article. -He had an English grandfather who -transmitted to his descendant quite a number -of easily recognizable Anglo-Saxon traits.</p> - -<p>In case he should take exception to my manner -of stating this, let me tell him a little parable. -One summer when I was in Korea I met -a native woman at the home of a missionary. -We were not able to talk with each other except -through our interpreter, but we had quite -a friendly time smiling, and after she had left, -the missionary said to me, “She thinks you are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> -perfectly charming. She says if it wasn’t for -the clothes, you would look exactly like a -Korean.” Now, I had never been conscious of -any special yearning to look like a Korean, but -I considered the source of the remark and decided -it was one of the most thoroughgoing -compliments I had ever received!</p> - -<p>The gods were good to us next day. There -was not a cloud in the sky and the air was like -champagne. Our muscles had become disciplined, -our languor was shaken off. After an -excellent breakfast of coffee, rolls and honey, -we started out gayly from the grim stone hospice -that had lodged us, past the twin lakes, blue -as sapphires in the bottom of a cold gray cup, -and up the steep footpath that cuts off the -long loops of the diligence road.</p> - -<p>The summit of the pass, just a little over -seven thousand feet high, was soon reached, -and we paused to get our bearings and enjoy -the view. We were on the boundary between -Canton Berne and the Valais, between Protestant -and Catholic Switzerland. But the difference -between the two is more than theological. -Berne, founded by a prince to stand for freedom,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> -proud and prosperous from the start, one -of the first to join the Forest Cantons in their -Confederation, typifies all that is sturdy and -successful in Switzerland. Poor Valais, on the -other hand, crushed under the heel of Savoie -and harassed by petty local lordlings, passed -through centuries of civil war and uprisings in -the struggle for liberty, and when at last -snatched from her oppressors and joined to the -Swiss Bund, it was in the poor-relation capacity -of “subject canton.” It is only in recent years -that this humiliation has been removed. The -effects still show. All we saw of Valais seemed -poorer, dirtier, less intelligent and enterprising -than the canton we had left.</p> - -<p>These peculiarities were not, however, visible -from the top of the pass. We gazed first of all -at the huge Rhone glacier, from which the river -takes its rise—vast, dirty, ungainly, not to be -compared in picturesqueness with our Grindelwald -glaciers. We saw the river meandering -away down the valley, the chains of snow mountains -on the other side, and the zigzag road -from the opposite bank of the glacier over the -Furka Pass, which we were to travel later in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> -the season. Near at hand was the somber little -Lake of the Dead, so called from the number -of bodies thrown into it after the fight between -the Austrians and French in 1799.</p> - -<p>With an affectionate backward glance at Finsteraarhorn -and all the other Bernese snow -peaks we were leaving, we plunged down the -steep incline into the Rhone valley. The hotel -is at the juncture of three great diligence routes—those -of the Furka, the Grimsel, and the -Rhone valley. We found ourselves in a whirl -of arriving and departing tourists and had a -sophisticated lunch in their midst, then shook the -dust of Philistia from our feet and resumed our -staffs and knapsacks. We had been up to the -foot of the glacier before luncheon, scorned its -bareness and dirt and haughtily declined the -invitations of the ice-grotto man, and we were -now free to continue our way down the valley.</p> - -<p>A few turns of the road restored us to our -lost Arcadia. The first few miles of the road -led through a wild and picturesque region, with -woods and ravines, and the Infant Rhone brawling -as loudly at the Infant Aar had done the -day before. But this infant was pursuing a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span> -steep-grade downward path, and before long we -found ourselves in a flat open valley, full of -cultivated fields and villages, distinctly warm in -the mid-afternoon sunshine and growing more -so. The infant had become quiet to the verge -of placidity. It might almost have been a canal. -The mountain ridges along each side of the valley -were, comparatively speaking, tame. We -had intended keeping on down the valley to -Brieg, where the railroad begins, but we began -to chafe at the thought of thirty-one miles of -this.</p> - -<p>The village of Oberwald impressed itself on -my memory for several things. First, for the -turnip-shaped, almost Mohammedan-looking -spire on its church, which we found to be typical -of this end of the valley. Next for the extreme -difficulty with which we purchased the simple -substance of our supper, which we intended to -take <em>al fresco</em> an hour or so later. There -seemed to be no provision stores at all. After -looking all around we made inquiries and were -directed to a house which seemed to be merely -a dwelling. No one was in sight, nor was there -anything to indicate mercantile pursuits. We<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> -opened the door and found ourselves in an ill-lighted, -ill-kept hallway. The nearest door, -on investigation, proved to open into an almost -dark room, where a deaf old woman rather unwillingly -sold us some hard bread and a big -slice of cheese.</p> - -<p>The third thing for which, not only I, but all -of us, remember Oberwald was the liter of -white wine purchased there. We were very, -very thirsty by now, and of course one cannot -drink water in any of these places without serious -risk. The little diligence refreshment place -had no mineral waters, and we had left the -region of milk. So we took white wine—just -a liter—one franc’s worth—between four of -us. It doesn’t sound very desperate. It was -thin and sour and cool and thirst-quenching. -We each drank our glass down rapidly and continued -our walk.</p> - -<p>Soon I began to feel strange sensations—a -sort of lightness in the head and far-awayness -of the landscape, a severing of connections with -my feet and uncertainty as to whether they -would continue to walk or in what direction. -We compared notes. The others were feeling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> -similar symptoms—some more, some less. It -was rather absurd and distinctly mortifying. -We wondered if we “showed it.” Fortunately -we were not likely to meet anyone who would -be interested. We adjured each other to “keep -going” and “walk it off.” I shall never forget -the agonized tone of Antonio’s voice as he -begged, “Give me a hunk of that cheese—<em>quick</em>!—Don’t -stop—keep moving. Maybe it -won’t be so bad when my stomach isn’t empty.” -Even at the time, though, we were aware of -the humorous aspect presented by four individuals -of irreproachable antecedents, some of -whom were feeling the effects of alcohol for the -first time in their lives, tearing at a mad pace -down the Rhone valley, in constant terror of -their own legs, and convinced that if they paused -for a moment they would fall into a stupor by -the wayside!</p> - -<p>The treatment (whether usual or not, I don’t -pretend to know) proved efficacious, and we -gradually returned to our normal condition. -The highroad presenting no attractive site for -supper, we cut across a field or so to the river -and sat down under a fringe of trees on its<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> -bank. Here, as soon as the bread and cheese -were disposed of, we got out Baedeker and the -maps and held a council. It was soon decided -to abandon the uninteresting Rhone valley, take -a dip into Italy, and arrive at Brieg by two -sides of the triangle instead of one. It would -require two extra days, but we were no slaves -to a schedule. We would go over the little-traveled -Gries Pass, see the Tosa falls, travel -down the Val Formazza to its joining with the -Simplon road, then back by that famous pass -into Switzerland.</p> - -<p>I don’t know that I ever experienced the -gypsy feeling more deliciously than during that -half-hour while, stretched out on the grass by -the babbling Infant Rhone, we discussed this -impromptu excursion into another country -which no one but the Chronicler had ever visited -before! What light-hearted, irresponsible -vagabonds we were!</p> - -<p>The lengthening shadows warned us to be -up and moving toward Ulrichen, which was at -once the first village where we could obtain -shelter for the night and the nearest to the -Gries Pass.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span></p> - -<p>Here it seemed as if our good luck was about -to desert us, for the solitary inn was full to -overflowing, and we were told we must go on -to the next village. The landlady looked amiable, -though, and we tried the effect of persuasion. -We were tired—very tired. We had -been walking since early morning. And it was -already dark. Perhaps we would find no room -at Geschenen and would have to go all the way -to Münster. We were going over the Gries -the following day—a long day’s walk at best, -and the added distance back from Münster, or -even Geschenen, would be a real hardship. -Surely there was <em>some</em> way? We would be -content with the simplest accommodations. -Wasn’t there someone in the village who would -rent us two rooms for the night, if they absolutely -could make no place for us at the hotel? -Finally, the good woman weakened. We could -come in and sit down and she would find us -<em>some</em>thing, <em>some</em>where. In the meantime did -we wish any refreshments? Bent on abstemiousness, -we ordered hot milk—but plenty of it!</p> - -<p>Along about half-past nine, when the other -guests had all been tucked away out of sight,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span> -and we were nearly dropping asleep in our -chairs, the landlady and two maid servants -bearing candles came to conduct us to our lodgings. -I should hate to have to find that place -again. It seemed miles away and through impenetrable -shadows. We found the man and -woman of the house sitting up with a candle -to greet us and apologize for the poorness of -the accommodations. Then we picked our way -up a rickety outside staircase and were ushered -into the two rooms which were to be ours. We -had been told there was only one bed in each -room, but that they were large ones, <em>very</em> large, -and we had visions of four-posters. We found -just the ordinary single bed. However, it was -quite too late to go elsewhere, and we were quite -too tired. We said we’d manage somehow, -and our guides withdrew.</p> - -<p>The boys politely took the smaller room, and -I understand they tossed pennies to see who -should sleep on the floor. The apartment assigned -to Belle Soeur and me was quite spacious -and immaculately clean. Sleepy as we -were, we took time to look at the numerous family -photographs on the wall and to puzzle over<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> -a square soap-stone structure built into the side -of the room, carved with names, dates and symbols. -In size and shape it looked painfully -like a sarcophagus. The names and dates and -crosses on it added to the sepulchral effect. -Could it be the custom of the Valais to keep -departed relatives right on in the house where -they had lived? The idea was so novel that we -almost hoped it was so. In the morning, however, -it proved to be nothing more exciting than -a stove. Our landlady showed us the opening -in the hall through which fuel was introduced -into its interior. I don’t know what became of -the smoke.</p> - -<p>Our only other discovery before we lost ourselves -in sleep was the date when the house -was built, 1787, carved in a great rafter over -our heads.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur and I tried to reduce our bulk -by half and share the single bed, but before -long she slipped off the edge without waking -me and betook herself with the crocheted coverlet -to the sofa.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]<br /><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">We</span> were called in the gray dawn, and I -remember the chill of the bathing water. -This proved to be the most economical lodging -any of us had ever had, for the charge was a -franc and a half for each <em>bed</em>, so each individual -share was fifteen cents!</p> - -<p>We took breakfast at the hotel and had them -put up a lunch for us, but nearly broke their -hearts by declining to take a guide or even -a porter. The faithful Baedeker had said -“guide unnecessary in fine weather” (which it -was), and we had no notion of putting ourselves -in bondage to an attendant unless it was -absolutely unavoidable.</p> - -<p>After we turned aside from the Rhone valley, -laid out like a patchwork quilt in cultivated -fields, we saw no human being or habitation or -trace of man’s labor, save an empty cow-hut or -so and the path we were following, till late in -the afternoon. The Eginenbach, whose course -we were following, drained as wild and desolate -a valley as could be imagined. It seemed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> -to have been a great place for landslides, and -every once in a while we had to pick our way -over masses of fallen rock and débris. We -felt like discoverers and rejoiced accordingly.</p> - -<p>After some hours’ walking we found ourselves -at the end of the valley and simultaneously -lost every trace of our path. Now this -was too much of a good thing, and our rejoicing -was suspended.</p> - -<p>The end of the valley was closed by a wall of -rock about fifteen hundred feet high, which it -was our business to surmount. On top of it was -the Gries Glacier, which we were to cross, and -which spilled over into our valley in an ice-fall -from the base of which issued the Eginenbach. -Somewhere there was a path, which at need a -pack-horse could follow. But where on earth -did it start from?</p> - -<p>The land between us and the foot of the -rock wall was a steep meadow covered with -bowlders and broken cliff-fragments. It had -been subjected to some sort of seismic disturbance, -leaving fissures here and there, some of -them of great depth and quite too wide to -jump. We lost a lot of time retracing our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> -steps and hunting for a way around, when we -found one of these things in front of us. We -understood now why Baedeker considered a -guide advisable in foggy weather.</p> - -<p>At last we all agreed that we had located the -path about half-way up the wall where it crossed -some snow. But how to get to it? Antonio -announced his intention of making a bee-line -scramble for that point, and, if necessary, following -the path down to show us the beginning -of it. The rest of us made a detour to the -left (having already pretty well canvassed the -possibilities to the right as far as the ice-fall), -and were rewarded by finding the end of a -really, truly, unmistakable bridle-path, hacked -out of the rock in ledges and built up with -masonry, which we followed steeply upward. -Belle Soeur got a touch of the mountain sickness -and had to lie down for a while. And I -nearly slid into perdition when we crossed the -hard-frozen snow gully, because I had trodden -my heels over and the nails had worn smooth -and my alpenstock had no iron point! Antonio -was waiting for us on the other bank, -and we continued upward together.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span></p> - -<p>Finally we reached the top and saw before -us the flat Eis-Meer which we were to cross. -We beheld it with interest not untinged with -emotion. For although we had been living in -daily association with glaciers at Grindelwald, -we had never set foot on one, and this was not -only to be our maiden glacier-crossing, but we -were to do it quite, quite alone!</p> - -<p>In the meantime we sat down in a row on -the path, our backs against the rock and our -feet protruding out into space and ate the hard-boiled -eggs and sandwiches that had been put -up for us at Ulrichen. We were not as hardened -to precipices then as we later became, and -I remember the shiver with which I tossed egg-shells -over the edge and felt as if I needed -to hold on to keep from going with them.</p> - -<p>Some rising clouds warned us to finish our -meal and start on, for we could not afford to -risk being caught by a fog on the Eis-Meer. -The route was indicated by poles stuck up in -the ice, but some were fallen, and even when -standing they were not near enough together -to be visible in thick weather.</p> - -<p>It was very thrilling when we had clambered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span> -over the pile of débris at the edge and found -ourselves on the flat, frozen slush of the Eis-Meer. -We did not know what unfamiliar dangers -might be lying in wait for us, but if they -were there, we did not encounter them. There -was no special beauty or grandeur in this view -of a glacier. The ice had a yellowish, muddy -look, and was perfectly flat. The midday sun -was melting its surface, and countless little -streamlets of water were running in all directions -among the corrugations left by last night’s -freeze. Here and there a stream would disappear -suddenly into a fissure or an air-hole. -These seemed to be of indefinite depth, but -none which we saw that day were large enough -to be a menace to life.</p> - -<p>The threat of the clouds was not fulfilled, -and we reached the other side of the glacier in -half an hour or less without accident. Just -beyond was the boundary between Switzerland -and Italy, but there was not even a stone to -mark it. Strange to say, we encountered no -custom house on this route either here or later.</p> - -<p>Presently we began to descend a path so steep -that it was hard to keep one’s balance. Vegetation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> -gradually reappeared, then some signs of -humanity, an empty cow-hut or so, and finally, -on a slope below us, we saw a group of men -and women cutting and binding grass. And -oh, the joyful Italianness of it! All the women -had bright-colored kerchiefs on their heads and -one wore a brilliant red skirt.</p> - -<p>It was almost sunset when we reached the -first village, Morasco, where, to our surprise, -we found the inhabitants still speaking German. -We asked for milk, and a statuesque girl -brought us big bowls of it, warm from the -cows, which we drank with great gusto, sitting -flat on the little grass-plot around which were -grouped the dirty stone huts which formed the -village. In the next village they spoke Italian -only. My question as to the road, put first in -German, was not understood until turned into -Italian. Think of the isolation of that handful -of villagers in Morasco, shut off by the mountains -from the people of Valais, whose descendants -they doubtless are, and by the even more -impassable language barrier from their neighbors -in the valley!</p> - -<p>We quickened our steps and reached the hotel<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span> -at the Tosa Falls just before dark. Baedeker -allows six and a half hours’ walk from Ulrichen -to the Falls, but we had consumed nearly double -the time. Of course he allows for no stops, -and we had stopped for luncheon and for milk, -for Belle Soeur’s mountain sickness, and for a -number of photographs and five-minute rests, -and we had lost about an hour hunting for our -path at the head of the Eginen valley; but -these things or others like them have always -to be counted on, and we found it well, as a -general rule, to allow from one and a half to -twice the time given by Baedeker.</p> - -<p>The Tosa Falls were disappointing. Baedeker’s -double star and phrase “perhaps the -grandest among the Alps” had raised our hopes -too high. I doubt if any European waterfalls -can look really impressive to an American who -has seen his own country. They were at their -best that evening after dinner when we wandered -down the path a little way below the hotel -and looked across and partly up at them, magnified -in the dim light. There is a drop of -four hundred and seventy feet, over a broad, -bare, unpicturesque rock ledge.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span></p> - -<p>The volume of water is respectable, but nothing -more. I imagine we must have seen the -river unusually full, for the upper valley was -flooded to the extent of making walking difficult -when we passed down.</p> - -<p>We had our little growl about the hotel here, -too, which charged more than its tariff given -in Baedeker and showed a disposition, encountered -for the first time on our trip, to run in -extras on the bill. This might be considered a -necessary accompaniment, however, of being in -Italy. It was part of the “local color.”</p> - -<p>The extent to which we had grown young -through the simplicity of our life may be inferred -from the character of our amusements. -I can hardly realize now that I was one of four -who found entertainment in the infantile game -of mystifying our fellow-boarders across the -dinner-table that evening by linguistic gymnastics! -They were a row of unprepossessing Italians -of the small-commercial-traveler type. We -spoke French mostly, German a good deal, -Spanish some and English a very little, while -Antonio occasionally burst into Portuguese. -Italian was the one thing we kept clear of, so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> -they discussed us freely in it. They placed all -our languages except the Portuguese, but what -<em>we</em> were they could not make out. It especially -worried the nervous little old man who subsequently -created some excitement by squeezing -the waitress’ hand as she passed him. Finally -the silent fat man, who had taken no part in -the discussion, stopped guzzling his food long -enough to emit, above his tucked-in napkin, the -following oracular statement, “They are North -Americans.” Evidently the others accepted -this as settling the matter, and we could not -but admire his perspicacity, although he had -missed on Antonio.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> following day, during which we progressed -down the Val Formazza to its juncture -with the Simplon road at Crevola and up -that road as far as Iselle, has a color in my memory -all its own. Italy went to our heads. Antonio -reverted to type. All the Latin in him came -to the surface. Up to now, under the influence -of our society and his English grandfather, he -had been the most quiet and reserved of us all. -Now he suddenly warmed up and blossomed -out in shrugs and gesticulations, in song and -laughter. We all caught the contagion more -or less. Our feet had wings down that lovely -wooded valley, and we laughed at nothing for -the pure joy of living. We exchanged greetings -with all the cheerful, friendly peasants -whom we met, so different from the unexpansive -Swiss variety. If we did not actually see Pan -and the mænads, I am sure they were not far -away. The sky above us was different from -the Swiss sky—warmer and brighter somehow.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> -The vegetation was richer and more luxuriant. -Our northern blood bubbled and effervesced under -the enchanted touch of Italy. And in Antonio -the South claimed her own again.</p> - -<p>Even the discomfort of my shoes could not -seriously dampen my enjoyment. Those trodden-over -heels had become nearly unbearable; -but when I caught one between two rocks and -tore it off, the resulting limp was worse. It was -not till the next morning that Frater evolved the -brilliant thought of prying off the other heel to -match, which was a great relief.</p> - -<p>Feet and shoes are always a problem on a -long pedestrian trip. A shoe too tight is misery, -but one too large, which allows the foot -to rub and chafe, is almost as bad. Any unhardened -foot is sure to develop blisters after -two or three days’ walking. These rub and -break and leave the flesh raw. It isn’t pleasant, -but in the high altitudes, where there are -no bacteria, everything heals rapidly, and if -one resolutely says nothing about it and keeps -on walking, it isn’t so bad as it sounds. We -were all in the same fix by this time. I know -now that I bestowed more sympathy than was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> -absolutely necessary on the “blistered and -bleeding feet” of Washington’s army, over -which I used to shed shuddering tears as a little -girl.</p> - -<p>At San Rocco, where we lunched, we found -there was still more than fifteen miles between -us and Crevola. So, as we had now struck the -carriage road and the daily diligence was just -about due, we decided to treat ourselves to a -ride.</p> - -<p>It was a sort of uncovered omnibus, and -proved to have one vacant place too few for -us, so Antonio sat on the steps. The driver -must surely have been exercising his calling for -the first time, for he did strange and fearful -things all the way. The worst was when he -evolved the wonderful thought of improvising -a brake by putting a piece of stout cord-wood -through the spokes of the two rear wheels. Of -course <em>something</em> had to give way. The spokes -cracked ominously and the wood, catching in -one of the carriage springs as the wheel revolved, -promptly broke it and tilted that side of -the ’bus down most unpleasantly. All the passengers, -except the priest and ourselves, objurgated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span> -the driver in fluent Italian, and the priest -gave him some serious advice. So did Frater -and Antonio, but I think theirs was in English. -After this the driver became very sulky -and took out his bad temper in language addressed -to the poor horses, who really were -not to blame. We were in momentary expectation -of our vehicle’s falling to pieces, but it -providentially held together while we were -in it. I am sure, though, that the catastrophe -must have occurred soon after we dismounted.</p> - -<p>We sang most of the way (heaven save the -mark!) partly to distract our minds from the -supposed impending disaster, and partly because -the priest enjoyed it so much. He kept his -breviary open and his eyes fixed on it, but seldom -turned a page and smiled broadly when -the choruses grew joyous. He had a good face, -that priest, and it was nice to see the way everybody -greeted him with “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Buon’ giorno, Riverenza</i>” -and “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Addio, Riverenza</i>,” on entering -and leaving the stage.</p> - -<p>Having reached Crevola, where the roads -join, about four o’clock, perfectly fresh after<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> -our long drive, we decided to walk seven miles -up the Simplon to Iselle before stopping for the -night. The first part of the road was extremely -pretty. There was a deep rocky gorge with a -river at the bottom, feathery-leafed trees, and -pale blue mountains, just like a landscape by -Salvator Rosa. But when we came near Iselle, -where the Italian entrance to the tunnel is located, -the two sides of the road began to close -up with shanties and rookeries. We met some -thousands of workmen returning home after -their day’s labor in the tunnel. Everything -swarmed, reeked and crawled, and we began -to wonder if we could possibly find a place to -sleep in. We purchased a large watermelon, -and ate it sitting on a pile of stones in a wilderness -of cranes and derricks, comforting ourselves -with the reflection that at least the inside -of it must be uncontaminated!</p> - -<p>We kept looking for the one hostelry mentioned -by Baedeker, which proved to be at the -extreme end of the long-drawn-out town. Our -hearts sank as we saw it, for it was of an unspeakable -griminess. Evidently it had become -a workman’s boarding-house, pure and simple.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> -We entered, with the faint hope of finding it -better inside than out, but it wasn’t, and we -were really relieved to learn that they had no -room for us. We retraced our steps to the -other hotel they told us about. It was a blaze -of light. A promiscuous crowd of men were -drinking and smoking on the front balcony, and -a woman was banging concert-hall airs out of -an atrocious piano inside. The air of dirt and -slovenliness was inexpressible, and we were by -no means sure the place was even technically -respectable. The proprietor, who looked like -a brigand, if ever I saw one, offered us one -double room in the hotel and another across the -street. Belle Soeur and I were not particularly -timid, but we agreed that nothing conceivable -would tempt us to spend the night in that hole, -with our natural protectors in another building. -A young German tourist, a pedestrian like -ourselves, understanding our predicament, offered -to share his room with Frater and Antonio, -so as to keep the party under one roof. -We thanked him and held his offer in reserve, -but resolved to try first the one other inn which -we had noticed in passing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span></p> - -<p>It proved to be kept by a gruff old German-speaking -Swiss, and was, though plain, quite -reasonably clean inside and of a reassuring respectability. -The price—four francs apiece -for lodging—struck us as high in view of the -accommodations, and we said so. The reply -was surprising. “If you had come to me first, -it would have been less. But you visited every -hotel in town and came to me as a last resort. -I saw you when you passed.” The joyous shout -of laughter with which we greeted this explanation -seemed rather to nonplus the old man. -But we made no further protest. His frankness -was worth the money.</p> - -<p>The balcony in front of our rooms overhung -the noisiest river I ever heard, while our windows -looked out on the main street, which was -filled till midnight with an equally noisy stream -of people; but it would have taken more than -noise to keep us awake, now that we had clean -sheets and felt safe.</p> - -<p>We got away from unprepossessing Iselle as -soon as possible the next morning. Although -we had enjoyed our detour into Italy, I think -all of us experienced a sense of relief when we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span> -passed the custom house a couple of miles up -the road and found ourselves once more in -clean, honest Switzerland.</p> - -<p>This was an easy day for us, walking somewhat -lazily up the easy grade of the excellent -post-road which Napoleon was good enough to -build for us. It was rather warm and we spent -the entire day covering fifteen miles lengthwise -and forty-four hundred feet of ascent.</p> - -<p>The Simplon road has a great reputation for -scenery, and doubtless it would be imposing if -one came to it from the plains. But to us who -had been living in the heart of the Oberland -and who were fresh from that wild climb over -the Gries Pass, it was disappointingly tame and -sophisticated.</p> - -<p>A road-house which we passed had a stone -tablet cut into the wall, announcing that at this -spot Napoleon stopped and drank a glass of -milk. So we did the same (being probably -thirstier than he) and paid several prices for -the association’s sake.</p> - -<p>We ate our luncheon under the shade of a -big tree on a velvety meadow running down to -a brook, where we refreshed ourselves by washing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span> -faces, hands and arms in the cold clear water.</p> - -<p>By the way, do people generally realize that -glacier water is <em>not</em> clear? It is always thick -and muddy, a regular <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café-au-lait</i> color. Some -of the mountain streams which do not come -from glaciers are almost as cold and are crystal -clear.</p> - -<p>We made it a general rule to drink no water -on our tramps. Sometimes it was a great temptation, -for we would get very thirsty walking, -and we were always crossing cool little streams -that looked the incarnation of innocence. -Doubtless some of them were, but we had no -means of knowing which was which.</p> - -<p>Antonio was the thirstiest of our party and -the most inclined to waive prudence and drink, -but a graphic description of his shapely throat -adorned with a large goiter usually had the desired -restraining effect. He didn’t care a rap -about typhoid, of which the danger was much -greater. But we all draw the line <em>somewhere</em>, -and <em>he</em> drew it at goiter!</p> - -<p>This reminds me that goiter must be dying -out in Switzerland. I don’t think we saw half<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> -a dozen cases all summer, but I remember it -as one of the horrors of my childhood when I -visited Switzerland before. It seems to me -nearly every other old person had one then.</p> - -<p>There is a hotel on top of the Simplon Pass, -and there was no reason in the world why we -should not patronize it; but we decided it would -be much more interesting to lodge at the Hospice -built and endowed by Napoleon and served -by the monks of Saint Bernard.</p> - -<p>It is a big, barracks-like stone building approached -by an imposing flight of steps. At -the top is a rope which it is the business of the -visitor to pull. It sets a huge bell vibrating -in the stone hallway and one feels that one has -created an undue disturbance for a mendicant. -A member of the brotherhood responds, one -asks for hospitality for the night, he leads one -to an immaculate bedroom and tells one the -dinner hour.</p> - -<p>We had taken a provisional farewell of each -other on the doorstep before pulling the bell-rope, -for we knew nothing of the customs of -the place and had an idea that we feminine -members of the quartette would probably be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span> -herded in some wing apart and not allowed to -communicate with our escorts till we left. Nothing -of the kind occurred. It was just as -though we had been in a hotel, without the -necessity of asking prices. They did not even -expect us to attend chapel. The bare stone -walls and floor lent an air of conventual austerity, -and the presence of the monks reminded us -where we were.</p> - -<p>When the dinner-bell rang, we assembled, -along with twenty or thirty other chance guests, -at two long tables, and, to our surprise, the -brotherhood ate with us. The meal, though -plain, was generous in quantity, and they kept -pressing us to eat more with true hospitality. -We found our hosts very interesting to talk to. -One old man took a profound interest in America, -especially in the St. Louis exposition, and -plied us with questions about it. Naturally <em>we</em> -were more interested in asking about <em>their</em> life -and mission, which seemed to us a delightful -but highly incongruous survival of medievalism. -They admitted that the Hospice served no very -useful purpose in summer, but it did a big charity -work spring and fall when thousands of Italian<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span> -laborers were tramping into Switzerland -and back, who could not afford to stop at the -hotel, and during winter, when the hotel was -closed, though travelers were few, the Hospice -became a life-saving necessity to those who did -go over the pass. After dinner they showed -us the portrait of himself that Napoleon had -given the Hospice and a few other treasured -relics.</p> - -<p>There is no charge whatever made for meals -and lodging at the Hospice, and the offering -one puts into the almsbox is entirely voluntary. -We had to ask where this box was, and I do -not think it would have been brought to our -attention in any way had we failed to do so. I -imagine many fail, or unduly consult economy -in their offerings, for we noticed that our hosts, -who had been most kind throughout, became -positively effusive after we had deposited in -the box—no princely sum at all, but just about -what we calculated we would have expended at -the hotel. I must say most of our fellow guests -looked as if they deserved Frater’s characterization -of “dead beats,” and yet the brothers told -us that travelers often found fault with their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span> -accommodations! Probably the less they paid, -the more fault they found. But even this sordid -company could not spoil the sentiment of -the place for us, and the memory of our night -at the Hospice remains one of the jewels in our -casket.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Next</span> morning, after dipping large hunks -of dry bread into big steaming bowls of -coffee and milk, along with the rest of the beneficiaries, -we took a cordial farewell of our -good hosts, and set out on our way. We soon -reached the highest point of the pass (six thousand -five hundred and ninety feet) and began -the down grade with long swinging steps. This -day, indeed, we could not afford to loiter very -much, for we had a two o’clock train to catch -at Brieg, fifteen miles away, and we must get -our luncheon somewhere along the road in the -meantime.</p> - -<p>The scenery was pretty, even beautiful, but -nowhere approaching grandeur on this day’s -walk.</p> - -<p>We caught that train—<em>just</em>, having run the -last two blocks of the way, bought our tickets -on the fly, and clambered aboard breathless -and warm at the very last permissible moment. -We felt quite pleased at the Americanness of -our proceeding.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span></p> - -<p>It was a very short ride to Visp, where we -had to wait some time for the train to Zermatt. -Here we were back in the Rhone valley, twenty -odd miles below where we had left it at Ulrichen -three days before! It was fairly palpitating -with the heat that particular afternoon. -In fact it seemed to be doing so whenever we -met it.</p> - -<p>I thought we would be less uncomfortable -if we did something, so I pointed out the towers -and spires of what appeared to be a very -picturesque castle on a hill in the center of the -town and dragged off the reluctant family to -visit it. It turned out to be an optical illusion -produced by two churches in line, neither of -which was in the least interesting, but our united -temperature had been raised several degrees in -learning this. I must say that the family took -the matter very amiably.</p> - -<p>Finally the Zermatt train got ready to start. -I wouldn’t like to say how many hours it took -us to travel the twenty-two and a half miles of -this road, but we spent the remainder of the -afternoon on it. It is true that we ascended -more than three thousand feet on the way, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> -the speed of our train was certainly not excessive.</p> - -<p>Zermatt is the highest of the big tourist resorts, -its altitude being five thousand three hundred -and fifteen feet. Its season is short, but -very crowded. The town in itself is exceedingly -ugly—all hotels and tourist shops and the -mushroom air of an American boom-town born -over-night. But the surrounding mountains are -glorious. The Matterhorn, which is close at -hand, we were all gazing at, spellbound, for -the first time. We had never before quite -believed its pictures. Nobody ever does. I -don’t suppose there is such another peak in the -world—bizarre, incredible, rankly <em>impossible</em>, -like the acute-angled mountains children draw -on their slates. It made one shiver to think of -human beings climbing up those all-but-vertical -smooth rock sides to the needle peak nine thousand -feet above us, and it was hardly surprising -to hear that the local graveyard is filled -with the bodies of tourists from many lands -who have attempted it unsuccessfully.</p> - -<p>The climbers’ tragedies, repeated each summer, -are tragic enough, the more so for their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span> -utter uselessness. But the poetry which these -have inspired, having missed the sublime, has -fallen into the ridiculous.</p> - -<p>One choice bit, taken from one of the local -guides obligingly gotten up by the Swiss government -in all languages and distributed free at -the Bureaus of Information in the principal -cities, filled us with especial glee:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“No dread crevasse, no rugged steep,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">No crag on the dizzy height,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But knows the crash of a human heap</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thudding into the night.</div> - </div> -<div class="verse indent10">* * * * *</div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Ask not the dead, who slumber now</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In the village grave hard by</div> - <div class="verse indent0">How they rolled from the mountain brow</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And toppled down from the sky.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_141"><img src="images/i_141.jpg" alt="" width="449" height="650" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>The Matterhorn from the outskirts of Zermatt</em></p> -</div> - -<p>Isn’t the “crash of a human heap” an -altogether delightful expression? And will you -please imagine anyone’s so violating meter and -manners as to make that foolish inquiry of “the -dead in the village grave”? As for us, we rejoiced -over these gems and others like them -all the way up from Visp (when we weren’t -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span>looking out of the windows), and “toppling -down from the sky” became part of our daily -vocabulary.</p> - -<p>The swarms of tourists in Zermatt oppressed -us, and we looked with dread at the caravansaries -which housed them. As usual, there -seemed to be just one long street, and we followed -it to the other end, hoping for a sequestered -spot where we could be at peace with the -mountains. At the very outskirts of the village -we came upon a quiet, clean little house called -the Pension des Gorges du Trift, and here we -straightway resolved to hang up our hats and -knapsacks.</p> - -<p>This was the end of our first week’s tramping, -and we all voted it a grand success as we sat -on a damp bench after dinner watching the red -lights on the cascades of the Trift, which was -the special property of our small hostelry. I -don’t care much, as a rule, for artificially lighted -waterfalls, but this seemed to be so entirely -our own private personal illumination of an -otherwise untouched wilderness, and the porter -was so beautifully proud of it that we couldn’t -have found it in our hearts to object.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span></p> - -<p>Bright and early next morning we went to -the post-office and got the first mail we had had -since leaving home. Very delightful it was to -hear that the Babes and the Mother were flourishing, -the household machinery running -smoothly and that we were to stay away as -long as we liked!</p> - -<p>The next thing I did, while other members -of the party were renewing kodak supplies, was -to buy a pair of shoes and have the soles well -studded with nails. And what a heavenly relief -it was to get proper footgear again on my -poor feet!</p> - -<p>These preliminary errands attended to, we -took the mountain railroad to the Riffelberg -and walked from there to the summit of the -Gornergrat. The railroad goes within a fifteen-minute -walk of the top, but both economy -and pleasure counseled us to get out at the -earlier station.</p> - -<p>I recall the fellow-citizen from Keokuk or -Kokomo, I forget which, who sat opposite to us -in the open car going up. He thirsted for some -statistical information, which Antonio, who is -the soul of courtesy, supplied. Whereupon he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span> -fastened like a leech on the poor boy and began -plying him with questions till the rest of us had -to plunge in to rescue him and keep a few tattered -shreds of our personal history from that -relentless cross-examiner! We were glad to -leave him at the Riffelberg.</p> - -<p>The view from the Gornergrat is certainly -one of the grandest on God’s earth. Here, as -nowhere else, can the average person, without -danger or fatigue, get into the very heart of the -glacier world. One stands on a rocky ledge, -the Gornergrat, and all around and below sweep -and swirl the great frozen rivers. From their -far brink rise the bare jagged peak of the Matterhorn -and the round snow-clad shoulders of -the Breithorn and Monta Rosa. Way down -below lies the green valley with Zermatt in its -hollow, and away as far as the eye can reach -are ranges upon ranges of snow mountains.</p> - -<p>If we could have had it all to ourselves without -the tourists! But then we should have had -to work very much harder for it. It is better -to take the gifts which the gods provide and -be thankful.</p> - -<p>It did not seem to me as if I could ever come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span> -to love the Valais mountains as I did those -of the Oberland, but they were magnificent.</p> - -<p>We had reached our maximum altitude thus -far for the summer, 10,290 feet. The air was -very thin, and we watched Belle Soeur carefully -for signs of the mountain sickness. But thanks, -I suppose, to our having made all but eighteen -hundred feet of the ascent by rail and the careful -slowness with which we had climbed the -remainder, she escaped this time entirely.</p> - -<p>We ate our lunch on a rock overlooking the -great Gorner glacier, just as far from the tourists -and the summit restaurant as we could get. -Then, when we had looked our fill and tried to -store our minds with enough glacier pictures to -last the rest of our lives, we began the long but -delightful descent afoot to Zermatt. All the -way down we kept getting beautiful views, and -I think the Matterhorn never looked finer than -seen between the fir trees of the lower slopes in -the pink glow of sunset.</p> - -<p>Who would have guessed that our harmonious -little party was going to be disrupted on -the morrow—and by me, its shepherd and -chaperon!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">An</span> exhaustive account of the causes leading -up to my famous elopement with the cash -capital would lead us far afield. If the man -from Kokomo were here to cross-examine me, -he would probably get it all out of me. But -he is not. I shall, therefore, make no attempt -to gain credit for the really noble and altruistic -motives which animated me, and the reader will -have to make his own diagnosis. He will probably -decide that eight days of being called Fräulein -and Mademoiselle had turned my matronly -head and produced an Indian-summer florescence -of the practical-joking age. Or he may -explain my conduct as one of those occasional -eccentric outbursts in usually well-disciplined -characters, such as have been celebrated in a -whole cycle of short stories of “The Revolt -of Mother” and “Wild Oats of a Spinster” -type. It really doesn’t matter. My shoulders -are broad, and my reputation, I think, will stand -the strain. At all events, I hope so.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span></p> - -<p>It happened that on the day following the -Gornergrat trip we resolved to take it easy. -We slept late in the morning, had our lunch put -up for us at the hotel and wandered out with -it in the direction of the Staffel Alp, resolved -not to go all the way unless we felt like it. -Now, we had been living a pretty strenuous life, -and relaxing the bent bow all at once was a -little risky. We were in prime physical condition, -and the masculine half of the party, not -having wholly emerged from the colt stage, -were distinctly feeling their oats. I don’t wish -to go into horrid details, but when it came time -for luncheon Belle Soeur and I found ourselves -without any.</p> - -<p>“I give you infants fair warning,” said I, -“that if the bearer of the common purse should -be pushed too far, she might take her doll -rags and go home, and it might prove inconvenient.”</p> - -<p>This threat referred to the fact that they had -all given me their money to take care of at the -beginning of the trip, I being the one who made -the business arrangements and paid the bills -and who was supposed to be least likely to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> -leave it all under a pillow. But Frater replied -jeeringly, “Oh, you can’t frighten me <em>that</em> way! -I’ve got eight francs in my pocket!” And -Antonio chimed in, “I’ve got six-fifty.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said I, “good-bye. Shall we go -get some luncheon, Belle Soeur?”</p> - -<p>As soon as we were out of hearing on the -path back to Zermatt, we began to discuss what -we should do. For one wild moment we considered -the expediency of just disappearing—taking -a train and going off somewhere and -leaving the boys to settle the hotel bill with -their fourteen francs fifty as best they could. -We soon decided that this would be too low-down -mean. So little by little we plotted the -details of a modified disappearance, including -the fairy story which was supposed to save our -“face” and the boys’ at the hotel. We rushed -in with an air of great haste. Would they show -us the time-table? Would they get our bill -ready? We had received word which made it -necessary to curtail our visit and go home immediately. -We could not even wait for the -two gentlemen, who had gone on a long tramp -and might not be back till late. We would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> -leave a note of explanation for them, and they -would doubtless take the first train. Yes, we -would pay for <em>all</em>. It would make it easier for -them if they had <em>just</em> time to catch a train. So -we hustled our belongings into our knapsacks, -and I wrote a letter to Frater saying we had decided -to go to Leuk (on the hill) that evening -by rail, that they could rejoin us there on foot -the next day if they wished to, and that the second -morning, if they had not appeared, we -would continue over the Gemmi Pass and home -according to program. I also mentioned that -the hotel bill had been paid.</p> - -<p>All this time we were momentarily expecting -the arrival of the boys to make their peace. -But they did not come.</p> - -<p>We took a belated lunch at the station buffet -and had time to perfect our plans a little further. -We had all originally intended to walk -from Zermatt to Visp. It was an easy and -pretty walk, and why should we give it up? And -what on earth could we do with ourselves for a -whole day at Leuk in that hot Rhone valley? -But we had to get out of Zermatt. So we bought -our tickets to a little station called Randa, only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span> -six miles away. And when we got there, having -considerable daylight still on our hands, -walked five or six miles further to St. Niklaus.</p> - -<p>We went to the Grand Hotel, which was not -excessively grand, but English curates and such -like eminently respectable people were boarding -there. We felt that it would not just do for -two lone females to experiment in cheap lodgings.</p> - -<p>The hotel did not quite rate clean napkins -at each meal, so the curates and their friends -kept theirs from contamination by buttoning -them up, ring and all, in neat little embroidered -shawl-strap covers. It was beautifully in character, -and we loved them for it. We were -further rejoiced by their signatures in the hotel -register, especially that of a very small, dapper, -timid little clerical gentleman who in a microscopic -but superlatively correct hand described -himself as a “Clerk in Holy Orders.”</p> - -<p>The excitement of our successful elopement -had put us into the highest spirits. We had -enjoyed our walk greatly. And we had no -compunctions—ah, not the ghost of a one! But -when, after the evening meal was over, we had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> -retired to our room in the Grand Hotel and -looked out on the darkening landscape, we began -to wish we knew where the boys were. -We were tolerably sure they would be sleeping -in the open air that night. They would hardly -waste any of their small hoard on lodgings. -It wouldn’t hurt them, of course. In fact, it -would do them good. But we wouldn’t greatly -object, now that our dignity was vindicated, -to seeing those long-legged objects with knapsacks -on backs swing into view under our window. -However, they didn’t. And we went to -bed and to sleep.</p> - -<p>After an excellent breakfast next morning -we started on our ten-mile walk down the valley -to Visp. We went along laughing and -singing and still enormously pleased with ourselves. -We discussed from time to time such -questions as whether the pretty waitress had -really given Frater my letter, and whether -the boys were now ahead of us or behind us on -the road. I was inclined to the former theory, -but it all depended on how soon after we left -they had reached the Hotel du Trift. If they -had gotten there shortly after our departure,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span> -they would doubtless have started immediately -walking down the road to shorten the next day’s -tramp all they could, for it was about thirty-two -miles from Zermatt to Leuk on the hill. -They should have spent the night in the vicinity -of Randa or even farther along. And people -who sleep out of doors usually do not sleep -late in the morning. So doubtless they arose -some two hours earlier than we did and were -very likely even now ahead of us. If not, with -their more rapid gait, they would soon catch -up.</p> - -<p>It was to meet this latter contingency that we -decided it would be a kind attention to leave -bulletins along the road for them. I have already -alluded to our habit of putting notes of -explanation for each other in conspicuous places. -I tore a leaf from my account book and penciled -on it “E. E. W. and M. F. W. passed -this spot at 10:15 <span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span>, Aug. 10th, heading -north, in excellent health.” Then folded it up -and put Frater’s and Antonio’s initials on -the outside and pinned it to a tree by the -road.</p> - -<p>After this we went along like Hop o’ My<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span> -Thumb and his white pebbles, leaving a bulletin -every half hour. These were of various sorts. -Some gave little personal items about ourselves -designed to allay any anxiety they might be -supposed to be feeling about us, such as “11:45 -<span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span>, M. F. W. and E. E. W. have just had -a light refection of fruit and seltzer water and -feel much refreshed.” Some were intended to -administer spiritual consolation to our young -friends in case they were feeling the pinch of -any material want. Of this type was the text -“Blessed are they which hunger and thirst -after righteousness, for they shall be filled,” -and “<i lang="ar" xml:lang="ar">Allah ya tik</i>.” This last is an Arabic -phrase which my husband and I had picked up -in Egypt. It signifies, “God will provide for -you,” and you say it to beggars when you don’t -want to give them anything yourself. One bulletin -was really practical and informed them -that M. F. W. and E. E. W. would lunch at -the station buffet at Visp and take the two -o’clock train to Leuk Susten.</p> - -<p>As we approached Visp, it grew hotter and -hotter and hotter. We reached the station -about one o’clock and, choosing a little table<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span> -on the shady side of the platform, ordered the -most cooling lunch we could devise.</p> - -<p>It was at this time that our hearts began -to melt (no wonder in such a temperature) -and we got rather sorry for the abandoned -boys. The heat waves were fairly dancing out -in the Rhone valley, and it made our heads ache -just to think of walking ten miles in that fiery -furnace to Leuk Susten. And we doubted their -having the wherewithal to buy railroad tickets.</p> - -<p>We watched along the road, expecting them -every minute to appear in sight.</p> - -<p>“Shall we wait for the four o’clock train,” -suggested Belle Soeur, “so we can take them -along with us?”</p> - -<p>“But suppose they are <em>ahead</em> of us and are -actually at this minute staving down that dreadful -Rhone valley? Supposing they get there -before we do and don’t find us? We <em>said</em> we’d -be there, and they would have no way of understanding -our change of program. They’d be -boiled and worn out and penniless and would -think themselves abandoned for sure.” So we -took the train and went on.</p> - -<p>The truthful Baedeker says it is only a mile<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span> -from Leuk Susten, the station, to old Leuk on -the hill, but Belle Soeur and I agreed as we -toiled up the shadeless road in the middle of -the hot afternoon that it was quite the longest -mile we had ever traversed. It was a picturesque -little old place when we got to it, with a -ruined castle and just two inns, very modest -looking, and obligingly side by side.</p> - -<p>We got a room and bespoke another for the -gentlemen of our party when they should arrive. -We cooled ourselves off by dint of bathing -and clean collars, sallied out and had a look -at the ruins of the castle, then found a turn -of the road that commanded all the lower windings -to the railroad station, including a long -bridge across the river, and sat ourselves down -to watch. Every time we saw two specks of -humanity approaching we were sure it was our -boys. We developed various theories. Perhaps -they had economized on eating so as to -come by rail from Visp. If so, that later train -was just in, and they ought to be appearing any -minute. A carriage was seen winding up the -road. “Perhaps they are in it,” suggested -Belle Soeur; “it would be just like their enterprise<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span> -to charter a carriage and have themselves -delivered C. O. D.”</p> - -<p>But they weren’t in the carriage. And the -various pedestrians whom we had taken for -them turned into peasants returning from work, -women, priests, or commercial travelers, on -nearer approach.</p> - -<p>Twilight was stealing over the Rhone valley, -and a little wistful sense of loneliness was stealing -over <em>us</em>. It had been a fine game, this eloping, -but we had now reached the time scheduled -for it to end in a happy reunion—all hands -around and everything forgiven.</p> - -<p>We went back to the hotel and got them to -set a little table for our dinner on the balcony -outside the dining-room. Of course it was -cooler and in every way pleasanter out there. -And it also commanded the street.</p> - -<p>Afterwards, we sat at our window and -watched that street till bed-time, though we -kept up a pretense of talking. Belle Soeur says -that I jumped up out of bed in the middle of -the night and ran to the window because somebody -was walking by on the stone pavement. -<em>I</em> say <em>she</em> did it. Perhaps both stories are true.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">According</span> to what we had said in our -Zermatt letter, if the boys had not rejoined -us by the morning of August 11th, -we would continue over the Gemmi Pass and -back to Grindelwald by ourselves.</p> - -<p>We talked over the pros and cons, but could -see no reason for changing this. We could -not figure out any explanation for their not having -caught up with us, if they had made an effort -to do so. The thirty-two or three miles -down grade on a good road, was a long day’s -walk, especially in view of the heat of the last -part, but it was by no means prohibitive. We -had walked almost as far several times ourselves, -and the young men always gave us to -understand that they had plenty of reserve -strength which <em>our</em> style of walking made no -drafts on. The only inference seemed to be -that they had stayed quietly in Zermatt and -sent home for money. We therefore felt that -we had been abandoned, so we cast the ungrateful -wretches from our minds and started forth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span></p> - -<p>Strange to say, although deprived of the -stimulus of masculine walking, we kept nearer -to the Baedeker time schedule this day than we -had ever done before. He allows three and a -half hours for the walk from Leuk to Leuk -Baden, which we made in four.</p> - -<p>It was rather warm all the way, for our rise -in altitude was just about balanced by the advance -towards midday. For a long time we -were looking down into the Rhone valley and -across to the mountains on the other side, then -we struck north towards the divide, and the -foothills closed up behind us.</p> - -<p>We reached Leuk Baden about half-past -eleven, got our lunch in a restaurant that offered -us a little table on a second-story balcony -overhanging the main street, visited the baths, -which were at that hour deserted, and continued -on our way. We felt a mild curiosity -to see the patrons of the baths disporting themselves -in the pools, but not enough to keep us -until the afternoon bathing hour.</p> - -<p>The thermal establishments are large, though -rather dingy. Besides many corridors of private -baths, there is the great common pool,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span> -where everybody taking the cure is supposed to -disport himself or herself for several hours -morning and afternoon standing up to the chin -in water, while the public gazes from a balcony. -These rendezvous are said to be very -animated, with plenty of talking and singing. -There are also little trays floating around on -which tea or other refreshments can be served, -or books, or writing materials placed. Why, -in such prolonged promiscuous soaking, the afflicted -do not interchange microbes and emerge -with three or four diseases instead of one, I -do not pretend to say.</p> - -<p>There is something peculiarly unattractive -about skin diseases (which is what the Leuk -springs are used for) even if you call them -cutaneous disorders, and Belle Soeur and I -gathered our garments particularly close around -us all the time we were there and avoided touching -things. It was partly because of this -creepy, crawly feeling that we did not wait for -the bathing hour, and partly because we did not -know how long it might take us to climb the -three-thousand-foot rock wall between us and -the pass. Baedeker says two and a half hours,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span> -and if it took us twice that time, we would need -the whole afternoon. It did not look like a -place where one would care to be caught after -dark.</p> - -<p>I do not suppose there is anything quite like -the Gemmi Pass anywhere. The cliff is absolutely -vertical. It looks as if you could let -down a bucket by a rope from the top and pull -it up full of water without spilling. The Cantons -of Berne and Valais built the path up it -way back in 1736-41, and a very excellent path -it is, all hewn out of the solid rock and winding -back and forth in steep zigzags or round -and round like a spiral staircase. Baedeker -says the path is five feet wide. I should have -put it at nearer three. But certainly it is wide -enough for entire safety, though a person inclined -to dizziness would not enjoy the look -downward. The grade was so steep that our -feet were bent upwards in an acute angle to the -axis of the leg, and the little-used muscles involved -ached for days afterwards.</p> - -<p>It is possible to go up on horseback (though -I think it much pleasanter to trust to one’s -own feet), but the authorities have not allowed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span> -the descent to be made on horseback, since -some fatal accidents occurred. These incidents -are commemorated by little tablets and monuments -whose inscriptions we read in passing.</p> - -<p>It was a very interesting climb, and to our -intense surprise, though we did not hurry at all, -and gave ourselves frequent brief rests, we -made it virtually in the Baedeker time. The -ever-expanding view as we mounted upward led -us to expect a great treat when we reached the -summit, but as ill luck would have it, clouds -closed in around us just before we got there and -we had to make a run for the hotel to avoid -a drenching.</p> - -<p>We ordered tea, for it was cold up there, -7640 feet in the air, and wrote letters and -waited for it to clear off. We had intended to -spend the night at this hotel, but a restless -spirit was upon us, the hotel struck us as dreary, -and it was still only the middle of the afternoon. -So when it stopped raining we pushed -on.</p> - -<p>Our route lay over an almost level plateau, -very slightly down grade, through a desolate -region of bare rock with snow peaks on either<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span> -hand, past a bleak Alpine lake. We came in -about an hour to another inn, which we knew -was the last shelter we should find till we reached -Kandersteg on the other side of the pass. But -it was still early, and we were in the mood -for walking, so we kept on.</p> - -<p>We passed through what Baedeker aptly calls -“a stony chaos,” thence to a “pasture strewn -with stones and débris, which was entirely devastated -in September, 1895, by a burst of the -glacier covering the slopes of the Attels (11,930’) -to the left. A tablet commemorates the -six persons who lost their lives on this occasion.”</p> - -<p>Many glaciers were hanging above us here, -all presumably liable to do the same sort of -thing at any moment. I do not imagine this -was any likelier to happen because of the absence -of the boys, but I think Belle Soeur and I -felt the somber and menacing character of the -scenery more keenly than if we had been in -their enlivening company.</p> - -<p>When we reached tree level, all this desolation -vanished. The path ran through a forest -along a ledge cut in the side of a gorge, -and through the foliage we had very lovely<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span> -views of the leafy ravine and the mountain -slopes on the other side. The colors were especially -beautiful in the sunset glow, and we regretted -that we could not linger to enjoy it; -but we had no very clear idea how much farther -we had to walk, and there was evidently not -much daylight left.</p> - -<p>We quickened our pace, and it was well we -did so. The down grade was now very steep -and we could keep up a tremendous gait, though -at some risk of “toppling down from the sky.” -At last we came to a place where the gorge -we had been following opened out into the -Kander valley, and we could see the village we -were aiming for still a thousand feet at least -below us.</p> - -<p>We thought we had been walking as fast -as we could before. But we now began a race -with the oncoming darkness, under the stimulus -of our strong objection to spending the night -in the very chilly atmosphere of this high Alpine -mountain-side, which quite outdid our previous -performances.</p> - -<p>This path was not quite so steep as the one -by which we had climbed from Leuk Baden to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span> -the summit, nor was the rock wall as absolutely -perpendicular, but they were close seconds. We -used our alpenstocks practically as vaulting -poles and came down in long kangaroo-like -leaps. We had still a remnant of twilight, as -indeed was absolutely essential to walking on -this path. Darkness and the safe road at the -bottom arrived simultaneously, and we fairly -groped our way the last half mile to the first -hotel, guided only by its lights.</p> - -<p>To our great disgust we found the hotel full. -We were just wound up to last that far, and -the few hundred yards to the next hotel seemed -an almost impossible exertion. Besides, the -painful thought occurred to us that maybe it -was contrary to Swiss etiquette to take in unescorted -women after dark, and we would find -all the hotels “full.” However, this dreadful -fear did not prove to be well founded, for at -the next hotel they had a room for us, and we -retired to it joyously. It was a sophisticated -place with brass beds and electric bells and liveried -attendants, and we felt eminently safe -and well cared for.</p> - -<p>We had intended taking the diligence from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span> -Kandersteg to Frutigen, but as we found it involved -either starting at 5 <span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span> or waiting till -afternoon, we resolved to walk the eight miles -involved at our leisure next morning.</p> - -<p>This we did, interrupted only by a shower, -which led us to call on a peasant woman in her -châlet. Our road was adorned by a ruined -castle or so, pertaining to extinct robber barons -who used to lord it over the valley. I remember -the intense interest manifested by the postmaster -of an infinitesimal village post-office we -passed, over a letter I mailed there addressed -to my husband in the Philippines. I had to -give him an epitome of our family history before -I could get away. But somehow his questions -were only amusing, not annoying like -those of the man from Kokomo. In the one -instance one instinctively felt the questions an -impertinence, in the other they were merely -childlike. What is it makes the difference?</p> - -<p>Frutigen is a railway terminus. We took the -train from here to Spiez on Lake Thun, thence -another to Interlaken, caught the afternoon express -to Grindelwald, and walked safe and -sound into the Châlet Edelweiss.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Our</span> first question, after greeting the -Mother and the Babes, was, “Have you -heard from the boys? Do you know where -they are?” The Mother admitted that she -had received a telegram from them at Leuk -Susten the day before, requesting money, and -a letter that morning, and that they would probably -get home the next day.</p> - -<p>They did, and the hatchet was buried, and -we swapped yarns about our adventures. It -seems that after we left them on the mountain-side, -they decided it would be healthier for -them not to return to the hotel till our wrath -had had time to cool. So they went on to the -Staffel Alp, got lost, and thought they would -have to stay out all night, but finally found the -path and arrived home, footsore and weary, -long after dark. The pretty waitress handed -them my letter and watched them read it, but -I understand they betrayed no unbecoming emotion -for her satisfaction. It seems that the -claim of wealth they had made to us was a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span> -bluff. When it came to the point, they could -muster only about eight francs between them! -And then that unkind pretty waitress appeared -with our wash clothes which she had succeeded -in getting back from the laundress (we had arranged -to have them sent after us by mail), -and there was four francs to pay on them, and -the poor lads had to fill up their knapsacks with -Belle Soeur’s and my lingerie (that was the unkindest -cut of all) and go forth into the cold -world with only four francs between them.</p> - -<p>They were too tired to go any distance. A -mile or so out of Zermatt they encountered a -haymow and slept in it. Next morning they -breakfasted on dry bread and continued down -the road to Visp, but not, I take it, at a very -snappy gait. They found a few of our bulletins, -including the one that told them when -we were going to leave Visp, but they arrived -at the station just too late to catch us there. -If we had waited for the next train, as Belle -Soeur suggested, what a beautiful and touching -reunion we might have had! They had started -down that hot Rhone valley about 3 <span class="allsmcap">P. M.</span>, still -subsisting on dry bread, had tried short cuts<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span> -and brought up in marshes and had to retrace -their steps. Finally, they decided to give it up -and lodged in another haymow. They found -next morning that they were still some miles -from Leuk Susten, so there was no chance of -catching up with us. They therefore went to -a good hotel, had a bath and a square meal on -their expectations and used the last of their -money to telegraph for funds. They got their -reply the same afternoon, but resolved to recuperate -till next morning and start fresh. So -they passed over the Gemmi twenty-four hours -behind us.</p> - -<p>Apropos of Belle Soeur’s and my experiences -by ourselves, I want to say that everything went -just as smoothly and pleasantly as if we had -had masculine escorts, and that so far as our -example goes, there would seem to be no reason -why two sensible women should not tramp over -Switzerland by themselves if they feel like it. -Still, I should hesitate to advise it from instances -that later came under my observation -of how objectionable the usually respectable -Schweizer may become under the influence of -liquor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span></p> - -<p>The day after the boys’ return was the -Mother’s birthday, and we resolved to celebrate -it by a picnic. But mark how soon bad habits -become fixed! We could not get through the -day without splitting up the party! The split, -however, did not occur along the old line of -cleavage, so perhaps, on the whole, it had a -healing effect.</p> - -<p>It happened thus: Belle Soeur was making -a birthday cake to be produced at dinner, and -Frater was making candy. The rest of us, -therefore, got ready before they did, and as -the Younger Babe was a slow walker, we -started on ahead with him, the Mother, Antonio, -Suzanne and I, carrying the eatables for -luncheon. The Elder Babe waited for the cake -and candy makers, who were to follow with -the drinkables. We went to the Wetterhorn -Blick—a very beautiful spot on the hillside, -with trees and grass and, as the name indicates, -a remarkably fine view of the Wetterhorn and -Upper Glacier.</p> - -<p>We waited and waited and waited until starvation -forced us to begin eating. We went -slowly at first, still hoping the belated ones<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span> -would appear. But they didn’t, and our appetites -had grown meanwhile, so we kept on till -the last sandwich and crumb of cake disappeared. -We hadn’t a drop of anything to -drink, but fortunately we had oranges, which -answered the purpose reasonably well.</p> - -<p>When we went home to dress for dinner -after a delightful day, we found the absentees -comfortably installed there. They had gotten -lost and couldn’t find us, so they went home and -lunched by themselves. I don’t know what -they ate, but they certainly had plenty to drink!</p> - -<p>We thought we would make another try at -a united birthday excursion for the Mother, -and this time we really succeeded, although we -again risked going in two sections! This was -to be an excursion to the temporary terminus -of the Jungfrau railroad then under construction. -The Mother, the Elder Babe and -the luncheon went up to the Kleine Scheidegg -by train, while the pedestrian quartette -walked up. We effected a junction without difficulty -this time and all proceeded together -afoot to the Eiger Glacier.</p> - -<p>We led the Mother and the Babe right on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span> -to this glacier and sat them and ourselves down -upon it for luncheon. There were tourists coming -and going all the time, a place for tobogganing, -a vender of postal cards, and all that -sort of thing. But it is a fine glacier notwithstanding -its pollutions.</p> - -<p>After luncheon we boarded an ascending -train and went through a long tunnel to what -was then the terminus, the Eigerwand station -(9405 feet high). One finds oneself in an artificial -cavern hewn out of the rock, and an opening -in the side gives a fine bird’s-eye view (if -one cares for that sort of thing) of the Grindelwald -valley, Interlaken and Lake Thun. But -it looks a good deal like a railway map.</p> - -<p>Altogether, though we were glad to have -taken the trip so as to be sure we had not -missed anything, we felt that the long ride in -a dark tunnel in order to enjoy this peep-show -view which doesn’t begin to be as fine as the -one we left below us at the Scheidegg, was a -good deal of a fake. Doubtless when the road -is finished, one will have something well worth -making the trip for, and I suppose the railroad -must not be blamed for gathering in what<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span> -shekels it can in the meantime, as its expenses -of construction must be tremendous, but it is a -<em>little</em> bit hard on the public!</p> - -<p>We spent eleven days in Grindelwald this -time, enjoying the (comparative) comforts of -home and recuperating for another trip. It -rained a good deal. But we managed to work -in a number of walks and another picnic or so, -and we had some moonlight evenings of surpassing -loveliness. Frater ran across two -Princeton men he knew in the village one day, -and I asked them to stay to dinner with a brave -show of hospitality, making rapid mental plans -in the meantime for the acquiring of two more -forks, spoons, knives, plates and glasses. However, -they could not come, so it was all right.</p> - -<p>It was during this period that the avalanches -from the Wetterhorn became so numerous. -There is a sheer drop of four or five thousand -feet on the side towards the Grosse Scheidegg -and at the top of it, sloping back steeply, an -immense accumulation of snow. The summer’s -meltings were beginning to tell on this, and -every once in a while a great mass would detach -itself and come sliding down over the edge of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span> -the cliff with a roar like thunder. It looked -like a great foaming cascade, and would often -keep pouring for several minutes, so that the -one who first noticed it would call the others, -who would leave what they were doing and get -to windows or veranda in time to see a part -of it. These phenomena came to be of daily -occurrence, and we finally grew too blasé to -run to the window when called.</p> - -<p>Another beautiful effect we enjoyed was the -rainbow that almost always followed a shower. -One end of the bow generally came down in -front of the Mettenberg cliffs, just opposite us, -and lost itself in the foliage growing over the -banks of the Lütschine.</p> - -<p>Just before we left we had our first reminder -of autumn in a snow-storm which covered the -Männlichen slopes in front of us and the Faulhorn -and Schwarzhorn ridges behind us with -fine white powder.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">On</span> the 27th of August we started out for -our second trip, by rail this time, looking -quite conventional and civilized. The -Mother and the Elder Babe accompanied us -as far as Thun.</p> - -<p>From Interlaken to Thun we took the lake -steamer. It is a pretty enough trip, but everybody -does it, and the presence of a swarming -ant-hill of tourists somehow spoils the pleasure -of the Nature-lover, while affording amusement -to the specialist in humanity.</p> - -<p>We watched many of our fellow-passengers -with more or less interest, but of them all there -lingers in my memory only the old gentleman -with the Santa Claus white beard whose bare -feet were encased in Greek sandals. This with -an otherwise entirely conventional get-up. We -were by no means the only ones whose attention -was attracted by this devotee of the barefoot -cure. His strength of mind in braving -popular curiosity certainly deserved reward, -and I hope he got it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span></p> - -<p>At Thun there is a castle of considerable external -picturesqueness, a church effectively located, -quaint streets with highly elevated sidewalks, -and shops affording ample opportunities -to buy the crumbly Thun pottery. After seeing -all these things and eating our noon sandwiches -at a shady little table in what would be -accurately described, I suppose, as a beer garden, -whence we had a fine view of a passing -regiment of artillery, we started the Mother -and Babe on their way back to Grindelwald -and ourselves boarded a third-class carriage in -the train for Berne.</p> - -<p>The brief journey thither was without incident -save for the time when our compartment -was snared by two billing and cooing young persons -whose aggressively new clothes as well -as their demonstrative affection proclaimed -them a bride and groom. Perhaps it was because -we were foreigners or perhaps only because -they were so conscious of being legally -and properly married that they took no more -account of our presence than if we had been -signposts.</p> - -<p>At Berne we resolved to lodge at a temperance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span> -hotel we had heard of, our idea being that -it would be cheap and that the temperance -feature guaranteed respectability. The experiment -was reasonably satisfactory, but not brilliantly -so.</p> - -<p>Frater called Berne a toy city. The phrase -is happy. One feels oneself in the world of -Noah’s ark. The foolish painted fountains one -meets on every hand, above all the one with -the ogre devouring the babies, are surely intended -for children and not for grown-ups. -And it cannot be conceived that any but children -should take in a spirit of serious admiration -the mechanical toy which dwells in the -famous clock tower, where once an hour Father -Time inverts his glass and the giants strike on -the drum, and at noon the procession of Apostles -appears from one open-snapping door above -the clock and disappears jerkily into another. -It is an elaborated cuckoo clock on a large -scale. And surely the cuckoo clock also is for -children.</p> - -<p>Our good star led us to the cathedral late -that afternoon just as a violin and vocal rehearsal -was being held. We had the big dim<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span> -Gothic church all to ourselves, and out of the -choir-loft, from sources invisible, floated a -woman’s voice and the pure tones of a violin. -That was one of the perfect hours that Chance -sometimes fashions for us better than any Epicurean -foresight could have planned.</p> - -<p>There followed a walk through the town -past the bear pits (more of the provisions for -childhood’s amusement surely?) to a height -called the Schänzli, just above the river, where -we dined pleasantly at an out-door table with -Berne at our feet, a long stretch of fertile -country on the other side, and the white-capped -Bernese Alps we had just left fringing the horizon. -After the sunset tints faded away we had -the stars and the lights of the city till we got -tired and returned to our temperance hotel and -the slumbers of the night.</p> - -<p>Next morning we visited the federal buildings, -old Rathhaus and several parks and view -points, all of very moderate interest, and took -a train about ten o’clock for Freiburg. Here -we made our way to the Cathedral to find out -at what time the organ recital was due, and discovered, -to our great disgust, that this was the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span> -one day in the week when there wasn’t any! -We had lunch at another open-air restaurant, -looked at two or three things that Baedeker -advised us to and took a walk across the river -to see the picturesque remains of the city’s medieval -walls and towers, whereby we just missed -our train and had to take a limited an hour -later. We never, except by accident like this, -traveled first class in Switzerland, where even -the third is perfectly clean and comfortable,—far -more so than second in Italy or southern -France.</p> - -<p>Freiburg is on the line between French and -German Switzerland, and its inhabitants, so far -as our experience went, seemed to be all bilingual.</p> - -<p>Somewhere on this trip we were supposed to -get our first glimpse of Mont Blanc, but we -didn’t.</p> - -<p>Arrived at Lausanne, we walked and walked -and walked, looking for a place to lodge. Frater -had been feeling badly all day and was utterly -miserable by now, and we seemed to have -wandered completely out of the hotel region. -I do not remember whether some one directed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span> -us to the house we finally reached or whether -a sign in the window proclaimed that furnished -rooms were let. Anyhow we found two vacant, -reasonably habitable rooms, and, under the circumstances, -took them. They were not especially -attractive, but there was really nothing -tangible, as I look back at it, to indicate that -the place was not perfectly respectable, and I -am at a loss to say why we were all so firmly -convinced that it was not. Possibly it was the -undisguised astonishment with which the maid-servant -regarded us. Possibly.... No, I -can’t define it. But I know we were all on pins -and needles till we got away next morning, and -the way Belle Soeur and I barricaded our door -that night was a caution!</p> - -<p>Nothing, however, in the least degree exciting -occurred—not even an attempt to over-charge -us! Frater went to bed supperless with -his bilious attack, which worried me greatly -for fear it might be oncoming typhoid, due to -the wayside water he had drunk, when he and -Antonio were living on dry bread between Zermatt -and Leuk Susten. But it wasn’t.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur, Antonio and I started down for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span> -the lake of Geneva, stopping by the way -at a baker’s and a delicatessen shop to lay in -the wherewithal for a picnic supper. We chartered -a row-boat and went out on the lake. It -was just past sunset and utterly lovely. We -ate our supper and decided we would stay out -there a very long time. But pretty soon it got -quite rough and choppy, and our light went out, -and we found we hadn’t any matches. We made -one or two unsuccessful attempts to get some -from another boat. Then we began to wonder -how poor Frater was faring all alone up there -in that place we didn’t like. So we gave it up -and paddled ashore and went home.</p> - -<p>Next morning, Frater was better, though not -quite gay. We got our coffee at a near-by restaurant -and visited the castle and the somewhat -barren Gothic church, turned Calvinist, and saw -a statue of that doubtless gallant, but very -injudicious local martyr of patriotism, Major -Davos, who tried to free poor Vaud from the -grip of Berne before the time was ripe for it, -and succeeded only in losing his own life.</p> - -<p>We took an inclined railroad that plunged -us suddenly to the lake-side again. Here,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span> -with a lot of other human cattle, we boarded -a lake steamer and set forth for Geneva. It -was on this day, from the water, that we got -our first view of Mont Blanc, a very faint and -distant one.</p> - -<p>The steamer stopped at several places on the -southern (French) coast of the lake, and -though we did not go ashore, Belle Soeur and -I went through the form of introducing the -young men to the Pleasant Land of France.</p> - -<p>There was a little company of Italian musicians -on board who seemed to please Antonio -in a gently melancholy fashion. Antonio was -suffering that day from a slight attack of homesickness.</p> - -<p>In the early afternoon we landed at the quay -in Geneva and were immediately shanghaied. -It was really funny, and turned out extremely -well.</p> - -<p>We were still hard-jammed in the steamer -crowd and barely off the gang-plank, when a -stout, motherly-looking, middle-aged woman -asked me in German whether we were strangers, -and if so, where we were going to lodge? I -thought she had just come ashore with us and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span> -supposed she was a guileless stranger and didn’t -know where to go. So I told her in my labored -German that we also were strangers and to our -infinite regret were unable to offer her any advice. -But <em>that</em> wasn’t what she wanted, and -she buzzed on hopefully till by and by I got it -through my head that she had two furnished -rooms she’d like to rent us and that they -were wonderfully clean and pleasant and home-like, -and the location central, and she would -serve us breakfast and charge us only three -francs apiece for it and lodging, and we would -really have great difficulty in finding anything -else so desirable at anything like the price.</p> - -<p>Sandwiched in with all this was a large -amount of family history. They were Germans -from some Rhine town and had only been -in Geneva a few months. Her husband had -come here to work. She could not get used -to it. Neither could she speak French, but -she had a daughter who spoke it very nicely. -When her rooms became vacant, she went down -to the pier and watched the people come ashore -from the boat and spoke to some one who -looked likely to understand German. She<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span> -nearly always guessed right, and they had had -<em>such</em> nice people in their rooms! Some such -charming Americans! Were <em>we</em> by any chance -Americans? Ah, she had thought so as soon -as she saw us. She seldom made a mistake.</p> - -<p>I told her at first automatically, as a matter -of course, that we did not want her rooms, but -she was not easily discouraged and prattled artlessly -on. Her apartment was very near. It -could do us no harm to <em>look</em> at the rooms. We -were nowise bound to take them.</p> - -<p>After all, this was quite true, and though -we had a number of addresses, we had no special -reason for going to any of them. She had -as honest a face as one could need to see. We -had stayed at plenty of places about which we -knew absolutely nothing. We did not know -less about this good woman’s rooms. Clearly, -we risked nothing by going with her. So off -we went, her babble of personal and professional -reminiscences running on like a brook.</p> - -<p>The apartment was in a house not especially -attractive from the outside, but once we got -within and saw its resplendent cleanliness and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span> -almost luxury of furnishing, we knew we should -search no farther.</p> - -<p>Geneva is what is known as a handsome city. -It is clean and modern and tries to be like Paris. -It has good hotels and shops and parks and -quays and drives and public monuments. We -spent that afternoon shopping and sight-seeing, -took dinner at an open-air restaurant in -the Jardin Anglais, attended an organ recital -at the cathedral, which was considerably marred -by the non-working of the blowing apparatus, -and decided as we walked home that we would -have had all we cared for of Geneva by 2 <span class="allsmcap">P. M.</span> -the following day.</p> - -<p>I remember the gentle irony of the pretty -waitress at the restaurant in the Jardin Anglais. -Frater, who was still feeling under the weather, -ordered two soft-boiled eggs and a cup of hot -milk. Antonio, who always manifested homesickness -by mortification of the flesh, gave an -almost equally simple order and said he would -drink <em>water</em>. He had read somewhere that -Geneva city water was safe. Belle Soeur and -I, who were hungry and <em>not</em> homesick, ordered -a substantial meal and a small bottle of red<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span> -wine. Having written this all down, the waitress -turned to Antonio and inquired with a demure -smile whether the gentleman who drank -water would have it <em>hot</em> or <em>plain</em>?</p> - -<p>The next morning our landlady brought us -a breakfast that was fit for the gods. The -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café-au-lait</i> was excellent, the little rolls delicious, -the fresh butter pats exquisite, and the -honey—where shall I find words to describe its -perfection? We all did well at that breakfast, -but the two boys, who had dined so frugally -the night before, appeared to be hollow to their -toes. Like magic melted out of sight the heaping -plate of rolls, the great pots of coffee and -milk, the dainty pats of butter, and only a trace -in the bottom was left of the pint jar of honey. -Really, it was shocking.</p> - -<p>Later, Belle Soeur, Antonio and I, being in -the sitting-room, heard strange sounds of blind -man’s buff and overturned chairs issuing from -the boys’ bedroom. Presently out rushed Frater -with an anxious hunted look, closely followed -by the daughter of the house, who, her -face swollen with tooth-ache and tied up in a -handkerchief, was not at the moment of great<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span> -personal attractiveness. “She wants to tell me -something!” groaned Frater. “For heaven’s -sake, find out what it is!” Apparently she had -felt that her message was of a confidential nature -and should be communicated at close range, -and Frater, who is shy—at <em>times</em>—had tried -to keep the center-table between them, and the -strange sounds we had heard were caused by -his flight and her pursuit around and around -this table till he bolted for the door. At least -such is the not very gallant explanation he gave -us later.</p> - -<p>Balked in her desire to speak quietly to one -of the gentlemen of the party (the sterner sex -being popularly supposed to be more liberal in -money matters), the young-woman-who-spoke-French -got out to me with great embarrassment -her mother’s message—that she was <em>very</em> -glad we had enjoyed the breakfast, and that -she was prepared to stand by the price she had -quoted to us the day before, but that she had -really not looked forward to such wholesale -consumption of honey, and would be actually -out of pocket unless we would be willing to -pay her twenty-five centimes (five cents) apiece<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span> -more. Of course if we didn’t think it right——But -we <em>did</em>, and so assured her!</p> - -<p>That morning we called on some friends, a -retired Rear Admiral and his family, at one -of the hotels, and had the novel sensation of -talking “American” for an hour or more, declined -their invitation to lunch, got our letters -and a hamper of clothes from the post-office, -shifted into mountaineering costume again and -returned our traveling outfit by the convenient -mail to Grindelwald.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur and Antonio had noticed the day -before the bill-of-fare of a restaurant outside -its door, the prices of which had struck them -as the most phenomenally low they had ever -seen, and the place looked clean and respectable. -It was on the other side of the river, -on the way to the train we were to take for -Chamonix. So we resolved to get our luncheon -there.</p> - -<p>It was not till we were inside and giving our -order that we woke up to the fact that it was -a charitable institution—a sort of soup-kitchen -financially backed by a committee of ladies. -A quick vote taken showed that we declined to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span> -beat a retreat at that late date, so we had a -remarkably fine lunch, thanks to the charitable -ladies, at the interesting price of ten cents -apiece. It included roast beef (a big, tender, -juicy slice), five cents, mashed potatoes, two -cents, bread, one cent, and seltzer water, -two cents. We were later than the conventional -lunch hour and had the place to ourselves, -so could not judge who or what its usual patrons -were; but evidently <em>we</em> were <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">raras aves</i>, to -judge by the stir and amusement we created -among the employees.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">There</span> was nothing very scenically interesting -about the trip from Geneva to -Chamonix. So far as I remember, we played -cards all the way. A certain thrill of emotion -was experienced as we passed over the -French border. The boys felt it because it -was the first time, Belle Soeur and I because we -were back again! The baggy red trousers of -the soldiers of the line loafing about the station—Heavens, -how natural they looked! Frater -called them bloomers, but that was irreverent -of him.</p> - -<p>Chamonix reminded us of Zermatt for being -big and full of tourists, and, as at Zermatt, we -yearned to get out of the village. We went -to a hotel mentioned by Baedeker well up on -the hillside, which must have a fine view of -Mont Blanc and the neighboring peaks when -the weather permitted. Just then, low-lying -clouds shut them all out.</p> - -<p>It was an attractive place, surrounded by a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span> -garden, rather more sophisticated than the hotels -we generally frequented. But being late -in the season, they gave us beautiful front rooms -at very moderate pension rates.</p> - -<p>We laid our plans for an all-day’s excursion -on the morrow and were very much disgusted -when we woke up to find it raining. We loafed -around the house rather disconsolately all the -morning, writing letters and playing cards.</p> - -<p>After lunch it had stopped raining, though -the sky was still overcast. So we curtailed our -intended expedition and started out. We betook -ourselves to a spot called Montanvert overhanging -the Mer de Glace, adorned, of course, -by a restaurant, where we had tea and Belle -Soeur bought a pair of woolen socks. She was -weak on nails in her soles, and the socks, put -on over her shoes, were to take their place while -crossing the glacier.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_195"><img src="images/i_195.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="486" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Mont Blanc, Glacier des Bossons</em></p> -</div> - -<p>There were streams of tourists here coming -and going and quantities of guides anxious to -take us across, but we assured them that we had -had large experience in glaciers and needed -no assistance. A timid-looking bearded German -overheard us thus assuring the last offering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span> -guide and decided to combine safety and -economy by following us. He said no word -of thanks, explanation or apology, but constituted -himself our shadow. Also, by the grace -of God, he came through alive.</p> - -<p>The crossing of the Mer de Glace is hummocky -and requires climbing. It is also slippery. -But there is no danger involved of -anything worse than sitting down hard. The -continuous procession of tourists passing over -makes losing one’s way quite out of the question, -and the function of the guide is only to -lend a steadying hand to the aged and infirm -or to persons unsuitably dressed for scrambling. -There is nothing at all about the Mer de Glace -to justify its reputation. It is simply an average -characteristic sort of glacier, very accessible -to the general tourist, and safe and easy -to walk across.</p> - -<p>The path on the other side, after running -along the ridge of the lateral moraine for a -little distance, takes one down the famous -“Mauvais Pas.” It may have been “bad” -at some prehistoric time, though the vertical -distance involved is so small (perhaps a hundred<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span> -and fifty feet to the surface of the glacier) -that it can never have been <em>very</em> desperate. -But now there are nice steps cut out in the rock -and an iron hand-rail let into the cliff to hold on -by, and really no one but a cripple, an old lady -or a young child could find it dangerous. -Nevertheless, the French dramatic instinct has -not failed to take advantage of its traditional -terrors. Two little boxes for the poor are attached -to the rock at the beginning and end -of the “Pas” with a request that the traveler -express his gratitude to God for his preservation -by alms-giving. The whole thing was so -delightfully Latin and characteristic that we -stopped and contributed.</p> - -<p>It was a long way down through the woods -and home, and we quickened our steps till we -were almost running the last mile or two, for -we had a strong interest in dinner and we knew -that we were late.</p> - -<p>The next morning it was raining again! -This was disgusting. We decided, however, -that as it had stopped about noon the day before, -perhaps it would do so this time. So -we ordered our luncheon put up and started<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span> -out on the Mont Blanc trail. Besides, I wanted -to try the exercise and fresh air cure on a cold -I was catching. The microbe had established -itself in my throat the morning previous, when -I was sitting on the balcony outside my window, -waiting for it to stop raining. An old -gentleman sitting on <em>his</em> balcony directly overhead -was sneezing and sneezing with great violence. -In the midst of so much fresh air, it -did not occur to me to think of infection, till -all at once I felt a raw scratchiness in the mucous -membrane of my throat, and I knew that -the “invasion” had taken place. I tried to -drive the beast out with listerine, but unfortunately -there was only a spoonful left in the -bottle. So then I tried the mountain air. It -was my misfortune that it could be had just -then only in combination with rain.</p> - -<p>It is only just to say that this explanation -of the origin of my cold was not accepted by -my companions, who preferred to lay it on the -weather. But they were all able to bear witness -later to the highly contagious nature of the -malady. Personally, I was and am convinced -that my three months of out-door life in all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span> -weathers had seasoned me beyond any peradventure -of catching cold because my shoes were -damp.</p> - -<p>It was only drizzly, for the most part. -When a hard downpour came, we stopped and -took shelter under a shed or dense-leafed tree. -Some distance up the mountain-side, but still -within the tree belt, we came upon a lonely -little refreshment hut, where we stopped and -ordered coffee and hot milk to go with our cold -lunch from the hotel. It was raining pretty -hard just then, and we spread out our lunch -hour as long as possible, keeping up each other’s -spirits by a very conscious, but reasonably successful -effort. Evidently it looked all right -from the outside at least, for when we came to -go, the proprietress of the châlet, a sad-eyed -little Frenchwoman, begged us almost with tears -to stay longer,—not to feel that we must order -anything more either, but just to stay and not -go out in the rain. She would <em>love</em> to have -us stay, we were young and had <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le cœur gai</i>, -and it did her good to look at us and listen to -us, although she could not understand what we -were saying!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span></p> - -<p>However, though thanking her for her tribute -to our gay hearts and not ungrateful (I at -least) for that incidental tribute to our extreme -youth, we decided it was time to move and -pushed on up the mountain-side. After half -an hour or more we passed the more elaborate -Pavilion de la Pierre Pointue, and then all at -once found ourselves on the brink of the Glacier -des Bossons.</p> - -<p>I do not know whether on a clear day it -would have seemed so enormous, so awe-inspiring. -The rain had turned into snow drifting -lazily down on us. The clouds were all -around, above, below. Out of the clouds above -flowed that huge ice-mass,—vast, measureless, -tossed like waves of the sea suddenly frozen. -Down below us the clouds swallowed it again. -What we saw was gigantic. Who could tell -how much more there might be hidden in the -clouds? The Pavilion was lost behind a -corner of rocks. It might have been a thousand -miles away, and any other trace of humanity -as well, for aught that we could see. We -seemed to be in the very heart of Nature—huge, -untrammeled, primordial.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span></p> - -<p>The cold and the increasing thickness of the -snow-storm drove us down, but it was glorious -while it lasted.</p> - -<p>The next morning at breakfast we observed -for the last time the amiable manners of the -young Frenchman with the downy moustache -who always kissed his father, mother and two -sisters on the forehead before sitting down to -his coffee, and admired once more the embroidered -napkin-covers of the English family. -Then we asked for our bill. The sun was -really out that morning and the clouds looked -as if they might lift, but we did not feel that -we could stay longer in Chamonix. Antonio’s -time in Switzerland was growing very limited, -and we must give him a few days to rest at -the Châlet Edelweiss before starting on the -homeward journey.</p> - -<p>The amiable French proprietress blandly -presented us with a bill about twice the size -agreed upon. Then followed heavy weather. -If there is anything under heaven I hate, it -is an altercation over a bill, but my three companions -stood expectantly beside me, and I <em>can</em> -be voluble in French when I have to be. So I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span> -girded up my loins and did my duty. Back and -forth we hurled the language, up and down we -shrugged our shoulders, using hands and eye-brows -to intensify our effects. She was much -bigger than I, and her voice was louder. Also -she had doubtless had more practice. But the -Three stood firm behind me to block retreat, -and the consciousness of being in the right presumably -buoyed me up.</p> - -<p>All at once, without the slightest warning of -an approaching change of front, the proprietress -dropped her blustering voice, yielded the -point at issue with an incredible gracefulness, -made out the bill anew in the way it ought to -be, and devoted the last few minutes of our stay -to making an agreeable impression. The clouds -were lifting. Ah, we should have a view of -Mont Blanc before we left! Quick, François, -bring the big telescope and have it all ready. -Ah—ah—joy! There go the clouds! There -at last is Mont Blanc!</p> - -<p>There it was, and we were very glad we did -not have to leave Chamonix without seeing it. -But aside from this academic satisfaction, Mont -Blanc is very disappointing,—a wide, rounded<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span> -excrescence on a long mountain range, hardly -any higher apparently than the surrounding -peaks, some of which are infinitely more picturesque -in form. In fact, the dominating feature -of the Chamonix scenery is not that broad -lumpy saddle-back of Mont Blanc, but the serrated -rows of needle peaks called Aiguilles -rising black above the snow, uptilted rock-strata -worn away by erosion, the most spectacular -objects, except the Matterhorn, in all the -Alps.</p> - -<p>A party who had ascended Mont Blanc the -day of our arrival, before the rain came on, -and had been imprisoned at the summit ever -since, were taking advantage of this first clearing -to get down. Through the telescope we -could see them plainly—little moving black -specks on the snow field, descending towards -the Grands Mulets.</p> - -<p>We left them presently, Madame and François -and the rest of the hotel staff in a perfect -ferment of amiability and politeness, and -walked up the valley to Argentière, then, sharply -turning to the left, followed the diligence road -over the Tête Noire.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Going</span> over the Tête Noire is another of -the things that everybody does, and like -most things that are so easy, hardly worth -while. I do not mean that there is no good -scenery on the road, but there is nothing that -quickens the pulse or sets one to breathing deep.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I may do less than justice to the -Tête Noire road because of my bodily sensations -while passing over it. I certainly was not -happy that day. The beast in my throat had -downed me. I had a headache and a fever, -a cold in the head, and an unpleasant sense of -collapsibility in the legs.</p> - -<p>Every few miles I stopped at some wayside -inn or refreshment booth and ordered a liqueur -glass of kirsch (which is a local form of liquid -fire) and a few lumps of sugar, and, by dipping -the sugar in the nostrum, was able little by little -to absorb its fieriness, whereby the legs afore-mentioned -acquired an artificial stiffening that -carried them a few miles farther.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span></p> - -<p>Antonio was greatly distressed at this immoral -method by which I kept going. I think -he had visions of my becoming a dipsomaniac -in consequence of that day’s tippling. If he -had only known how unpleasant the kirsch was, -he would have been less alarmed.</p> - -<p>The day passed somehow. There were -showers here and there to add to the rawness -of my throat. We passed back into Switzerland -about noon. At dinner-time we began arriving -at Martignys. There are an indefinite -number of them spread out for miles—old town, -new town, and railroad station. The last -named was our destination. After dinner at -the Hotel de la Gare (a function in which I -was not personally interested, though I took -another kirsch), we boarded a crowded train -for Sion. I have seldom been so glad to get -anywhere as I was to get to bed in the Sion -hotel that night. I was sorry for poor Belle -Soeur having to share my room, for I was well -aware of the infectious character of the microbe -I was harboring, but as they had no more vacant -ones (or said they hadn’t), there seemed -to be no help for it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span></p> - -<p>The next day I felt worse. Belle Soeur nobly -offered to stay with me at Sion till I got well -and let the boys continue the trip without us. -But I did not want to break up the party, and -knowing I was bound to be miserable that day -<em>anywhere</em>, decided it might as well be on the -road. So Frater filled his pocket flask with -kirsch instead of cognac, and off we started -over the Rawyl.</p> - -<p>Now, the Rawyl is one of the least traveled -passes in Switzerland. Baedeker, who takes it -in the reverse direction from ours, gives a very -inadequate description of the path, and says -it takes ten and a half hours from Lenk to -Sion, and that a guide is desirable. We ought -to have taken warning from that ten and a -half hours, for Baedeker’s times allow for no -stops and assume a pretty swinging gait. But -we wanted to go home that way, and we trusted -to luck.</p> - -<p>We did not get such an early start as we intended, -and we took the wrong road out of Sion -and walked an extra mile or so before we got -set right. Those of us who had been brave -enough to dig through the Swiss histories were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span> -mildly interested in the roofless, windowless, -grinning skulls of castles that crowned the hill-tops -over the town, the Bishop’s and the -Baron’s. They used to have such lively times -in Sion between their two sets of tyrants!</p> - -<p>As always, it was sizzling hot in the Rhone -valley, and we were glad as our road lifted us -out of it. We went through a fine fruit belt -as we rose, and I regret to say we plucked a -plum or a pear or an apple quite frequently as -we walked along.</p> - -<p>At Ayent, about half-past ten, we came to -what we knew was the last settlement. Here -we fortified ourselves with a second <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café-au-lait</i>, -and laid in a stock of bread, sweet chocolate -and hard-boiled eggs. Then we turned our -backs on civilization and went on. We knew -we had to leave the wagon road soon, but were -in great doubt where, till a very intelligent peasant -came along who gave us directions we could -really follow. He also told us that we were -two days’ journey from Lenk—which hardly -sounded encouraging.</p> - -<p>That day seemed to me about a hundred years -long. Would there never be an end to this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span> -picking up of one foot and setting down of the -other? And I had to keep <em>pushing</em> the old -things so to make them move! No wonder I -was tired. My head weighed about a ton, and -had a red-hot and very tight iron band around -it. And every bone in my body ached. Oh, -<em>bless</em> the old man at Chamonix! At Ayent I -had happened to look in a glass that hung on the -dining-room wall, and the reflection I saw fairly -frightened me for its ugliness. Did that shiny -red nose, those bleary red eyes, that blotchy red -face really belong to <em>me</em>?</p> - -<p>By lunch-time we were among the high pastures -and had opened up a pretty broad view of -the Valais mountains, our old friends around -Zermatt on the other side of the Rhone. We -came upon a spring which had been piped to a -trough for the cattle, and, as we were very -thirsty, thought we would risk drinking from it, -when, fortunately, we looked closer and saw the -water was alive with long squirming hair-thin -eels! They were the most uncanny-looking -beasts I almost ever saw. Antonio suggested -picking them out, as they were extremely visible, -and drinking the expurgated water, but somebody<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span> -objected that the water must be full of -their eggs and that it would be so unpleasant -to have them hatch—afterwards. So we ate -our chocolate and hard-boiled eggs and bread, -and kept our thirst for future reference.</p> - -<p>We felt that we must surely come upon the -cattle pretty soon and that then we could buy -some milk. The afternoon was half gone, -however, before we saw a trace of anything -alive, and then it was a very small boy leading -a pig way off in the distance. We hailed him -and with some difficulty made him understand -that we wanted to buy milk. The patois of that -region is a fearful and wonderful thing. He -agreed to lead us to the cow châlets, but as it -was away from our path, and seemed very, very -far, we were several times on the point of giving -up the quest. However, he kept encouraging -us, assuring us we were nearly there, and finally -emerging over a grassy shoulder, we came upon -the herd of several hundred cows in a sort of -pocket.</p> - -<p>It was the milking hour, and we could not -have struck it better for our wants. The head-man, -or Senn, I suppose, escorted us up to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span> -cheese-hut and gave us stools to sit on, while he -ladled out foamy warm milk from a bucket in -a half gourd and passed it first to one and then -another, apologizing for his lack of conveniences. -Imagine a dozen men living up there -for four months on end with never a cup or a -bowl or a ladle among them except this solitary -gourd!</p> - -<p>There were two huge iron caldrons under -which fires were burning and into which the men -poured their buckets of milk as they brought -them in. This was to make cheese. We asked -them to sell us some, but they said they were not -allowed to. They gave us, however, a bit of -the old, last year’s cheese which they ate themselves -and declined any remuneration for it. As -it was a present, it would be impolite to say -what we thought of it.</p> - -<p>All the men crowded into the hut and gazed -at us with interest, but only the two intelligent -ones in charge did any talking. Perhaps the -others spoke only patois, but they were of the -utterly stupid heavy type I have already referred -to.</p> - -<p>We asked about our route, and they told us<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span> -it was absolutely out of the question for us to -get over the pass that day, as we were not more -than half way, and it was already four o’clock. -We must pass the night at the châlets of Nieder -Rawyl, the last pastures on this side of the summit. -Would the people there give us shelter, -I asked. The man smiled and shrugged his -shoulders. “They will have to,” he said.</p> - -<p>Very much refreshed by the milk and the little -rest, we bade farewell to our friends and -made our way back to our path, then onward -at a quickened pace, lest darkness come upon -us before we reached the huts of Nieder Rawyl. -We were getting pretty high now, and the wind -that blew down from the snow belt made us -feel that a night in the open air would not be a -pleasant experience.</p> - -<p>For me, the last hour of walking that afternoon -was a nightmare, my head swimming with -weakness and fever, my feet staggering foolishly. -I kept on because I had to. Fortunately, -we had no difficult climbing to do, nothing -requiring steadiness, no precipices to skirt, -just a steep, stony path.</p> - -<p>About six o’clock we came in sight of a group<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span> -of stone cheese and cattle huts, which we knew -must be what we were in search of. The milking -and cheese-making were just over, and a -group of men were standing in a doorway. We -went up and addressed the most intelligent-looking. -Could they give us shelter for the -night? The sun had already set behind the -mountains, the long shadows were falling over -the valley. It was perfectly obvious that we -could not go on into that bare region of rock -and snow beyond. Very gravely and courteously -the head-man assured us that he had no -way of making us comfortable, but that what -they had was at our service.</p> - -<p>He led us to a little one-room stone hut. It -had no windows, and the door consisted of a -couple of boards to keep the cattle from straying -in, I suppose. It did not keep out the -mountain wind, but as there was no other means -of ventilation, perhaps it was as well. There -was a raised stone platform to build a fire on. -Our host brought us some sticks and started -them blazing and hung an iron kettle full of -milk over the fire to heat for us. He owned a -granite-ware cup and a sort of spoon whittled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span> -from a cow’s horn, which he placed at our service. -There was a long wooden bench which -we drew up in front of the fire and sat on -while we made our supper of sweet chocolate -and hot milk. Our bread and eggs were gone -by now.</p> - -<p>About half the hut was occupied by a raised -wooden sleeping platform, covered with musty-looking -hay. Four greasy gray blankets were -there, too, which were put at our disposal. -They were not inviting-looking, but the bitter -Alpine cold was getting into our bones, and we -were in no position to pick and choose. We -did not even take our shoes off, but each wrapping -a blanket outside of whatever coats and -wraps we had with us, disposed ourselves on -the hay pile and awaited slumber. Personally, -I could not have held up my head another minute -if the world had been coming to an end. -But tired as I was, I could not sleep.</p> - -<p>Our host and another man came in and sat -on the bench, heated milk and drank it with -their supper, which consisted of hunks of black -bread and strips of last year’s cheese, which -they cut off with their pocket-knives from a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span> -stone-hard slab. When they had finished eating -they still sat on the bench and kept up a -desultory talk. Hours passed and they still -stayed. At last one of them lay down on the -platform by the embers of the fire and the other -stretched himself out on the bench. Whether -they slept or not I cannot say, but their conversation -ceased. We had been wondering why -they stayed so late, but it dawned upon us then -that, having given us their beds and blankets, -they had no place else to go. Belle Soeur and -I exchanged whispered comments still from -time to time, but at last she also went to sleep. -Frater and Antonio had dropped off first of all -like nice tired children.</p> - -<p>After this I kept vigil with the fleas. Their -name was legion. I have met this voracious -animal in various parts of the world, Italy, -Egypt, California and Japan, but never in such -concentrated swarms! What between them -and my headache and fever, and the place I -was in, and the company I was keeping, I did -not succeed in forgetting my miseries till daylight -was appearing wanly in the doorway.</p> - -<p>There had been the pigs, too. It seems our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span> -hut was built on a steep slope, and though we -had entered it from the level of the ground, in -the back it had a basement. This was occupied -by the pigs. And surely those brutes must have -had uneasy consciences, for all night long they -kept up the most unholy noises! There were -also waves of odor from the piggery, which -surged up to us from time to time.</p> - -<p>Our hosts had gone out about their work -when I woke up, and my companions were starting -the fire for breakfast. I did not feel very -gay, but the fever was gone and my head was -very much clearer, especially after I had bathed -it in the chilly brook outside. We ate some -more chocolate and drank some more milk and -were ready to set out on our way.</p> - -<p>When we wished to settle for our entertainment, -we found our hosts were charging only -for the milk we had consumed, and were quite -dazzled by our munificence in adding five francs -for lodging. Evidently they did not expect it -in the least, and had given up their beds and -blankets to us in a spirit of true hospitality.</p> - -<p>One of the men offered to show us the path -if we could wait about half an hour till he finished<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span> -his work, but as we had had no great difficulty -in finding the path so far, we fallaciously -argued that it would be the same the rest of -the way, and declined with thanks.</p> - -<p>About half a mile beyond the huts the path -came to an abrupt end at the beginning of an -open meadow, bounded on the far side by a -wall of rock. Somewhere beyond that meadow -the path began again and led up the rock wall -into the Alpine wilderness above. But where? -No scanning by the eye could reveal it. Each -of us had a different theory as to likelihood. -We crossed the meadow and skirted the base -of the cliff looking for that vanished path.</p> - -<p>At the extreme right, a stream tumbled down -a gully in a series of cataracts. By the near -bank there had been a slide of stones and loose -earth, making a place several hundred feet in -height, which, though terrifically steep, was not, -like most of the wall, absolutely perpendicular. -Above this we saw a horizontal line in the rock, -which <em>might</em> be the path.</p> - -<p>Somewhat dubiously we decided to try. I -never encountered anything more discouraging -than that slide of loose stones. With every<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span> -step we took upward we slid back about nine-tenths -of a step. Sometimes more. And we -were never sure that we would be able to stop -ourselves till we struck bottom. The higher -we went, the more precarious and crumbly it -became. We clambered on all fours. Belle -Soeur and I could never have gotten up if the -boys had not helped us. Antonio dubbed it -the Gutter Spout of Heaven. I don’t know -about the Heaven part, but the Gutter Spout -was all right.</p> - -<p>We kept encouraging each other with the -nearer approach of that horizontal line in the -rocks. When at last we got there, breathless -and exhausted, we found it was <em>not</em> a path, but -merely a natural ledge. How far it led, or -whether it led <em>anywhere</em>, we did not know.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur’s heart was making itself felt -just then, so we had to sit down to let her recover, -and while doing so, we held a council -of war. We were about half-way up the rock -wall now, and none of us wanted to throw away -all the time and labor we had put in getting -there by going back. Also, since the waterfall -marked the extreme right-hand boundary of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span> -rock wall, the path, if it existed at all, must -lie to the left. Therefore, by following our -hard-won ledge to the left, we should cross the -path,—unless indeed the ledge came to an end -too soon. At all events we decided it was -worth trying, so as soon as Belle Soeur’s heart -had returned to the normal, we started. After -edging our way along the ledge in a gingerly -fashion for about fifteen minutes, our faith was -rewarded, for we made out an unmistakable -path zigzagging upward, and had no further -difficulty in reaching it.</p> - -<p>The joy of finding one’s path again is so -great that I do not know but it makes worth -while having lost it! With renewed vigor we -climbed upward to the plateau-like region of -snow drifts and rock ledges that awaited us, -which some ironist has named the “Plain of -Roses.” We should have had fine views of -the Valais mountains but for the clouds which -enveloped them. Our immediate foreground -was wild and desolate enough, but as none of -the peaks were more than two thousand feet -higher than we were, our views lacked grandeur -of outline. For pure bleak Alpine solitude,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span> -though, the walk of the next few hours was -unrivaled.</p> - -<p>We quenched our thirst with handfuls of -snow from the virgin drifts around us. This -is said to be a bad thing to do, but we experienced -no ill effects either on this or other -occasions. At noon we sat down on a rock -and ate cheese and chocolate. This was the -fourth meal we had made from this combination -of foodstuffs, with the addition of milk -at the second and third, bread at the first and -hard-boiled eggs at the first and second. This -time there were no accessories. None of us -felt much of a craving for either cheese or chocolate -for some time thereafter.</p> - -<p>The summit of the pass (just under eight -thousand feet) is marked by a shelter hut and -a great wooden cross, whose bare arms, stretched -out over the wilderness of rock and snow, have -a singular impressiveness. The cross marks -the boundary between the cantons of Valais -and Berne.</p> - -<p>Another hour’s walking, past a cold gray -Alpine lake, brought us to the northern edge -of the plateau, where the green and fertile Simmenthal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span> -lay spread out at our feet between -the piled-up Bernese mountains.</p> - -<p>Our path plunged down steeply now, and -about three o’clock we reached the outpost of -civilization, what Baedeker calls a rustic inn—at -Iffigen Alp. We asked with lively interest -what they had to eat and found they had neither -meat nor eggs. What <em>did</em> they have, then? -Coffee, milk, bread, butter, honey and cheese.</p> - -<p>We balked at the last-named, but ordered a -large supply of everything else. As soon as -the maid brought it in, we told her to begin -getting ready a second installment just as large. -And how we did eat! Was <em>ever</em> anything so -good as that bread and butter and honey, -except the long drafts of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café-au-lait</i> that -washed it down?</p> - -<p>All day long my health had been improving -and my cold disappearing, and this ambrosial -meal seemed to complete the cure. We asked -for soap, water and towels, combed our hair -before a looking-glass, put on clean collars, and -looked so respectable that we hardly knew each -other. For myself, I felt as if I had just returned -to life and the joy of it from a most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span> -unpleasant dream. The treatment I had given -my influenza had been heroic,—a sort of kill-or-cure. -But it had happened to cure, and in a -phenomenally short time. The rest of the family, -who took their share comfortably at home, -also took longer to get over it.</p> - -<p>Greatly refreshed, we left the “rustic inn” -of blessed memory and swung happily down the -path past the pretty Iffigen waterfalls. We -soon found ourselves on a wagon-road which -led us in the course of a few miles to Lenk, a -village of considerable size with thermal springs -and the attendant hotels and health-seekers. -The specialty here is throat and nose trouble.</p> - -<p>We spent the night at Lenk and in the morning -walked the eight and a half miles down the -valley to Zweisimmen.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_223"><img src="images/i_223.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="488" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Bach Lake</em> (<em>Faulhorn Route</em>)</p> -</div> - -<p>The Simmenthal is famous for its cattle, and -as we happened to have struck the day on -which they were coming home from the high -pastures, the whole eight and a half miles was -through a procession of moist milky cattle. -Sometimes they filled the road so that it required -ingenuity to get past. They were big, -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span>handsome, sleek creatures, and seemed to be -perfectly gentle.</p> - -<p>The Rawyl wilderness separates not only the -two cantons, but the two languages as with -a sharp knife. There is no lapping over at -the edges. The herdsmen at Nieder Rawyl -spoke French, but no German, and the waitress -at Iffigen Alp spoke German and never a word -of French.</p> - -<p>Zweisimmen is the railway terminus. Here -we took train to Spiez, and hence to Interlaken -and home in the usual manner.</p> - -<p>Thus ended the second trip.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> next eight days we consecrated, none -too joyously, to the influenza. Frater -and Belle Soeur came down with it almost immediately -and simultaneously and were put in -quarantine. We were determined, if possible, -to protect the Mother from contagion, as a -cold is a long and serious matter with her. So -the two invalids were shut up in the dining-room -with books and easy-chairs and a cribbage-board -and had their meals served there till they -emerged from the fever and sneezing stage. -Just as they were convalescent, the two Babes -and the domestic staff got it, but in a very light -form. Then Antonio, who had been boasting -of his immunity, succumbed and had to postpone -his intended departure. At last everybody -emerged triumphant from quarantine. And it -had been successful. The Mother escaped contagion.</p> - -<p>Antonio was to leave for Paris, Liverpool -and New York next day, the 14th of September,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span> -and we were all very sad at the thought of -the first break in our happy family. Also we -wanted to make the most of the remaining time, -so (it sounds singularly idiotic written down in -black and white after this lapse of sobering -time) we sat up all night! The Mother retired -about midnight. Frater had already done -so, but we decided he had better get up.</p> - -<p>Then followed an interesting “rough-house” -in which the young men took the star -rôles and Belle Soeur and I acted as chorus. It -would be difficult to give an adequate history of -the night, but it involved an exciting amount of -lockings out and lockings in, climbing to the -second-story balcony, and the smashing of a -kitchen window by a group of “outs” who -wished to be in. This brought Anna and Suzanne -to their windows above in great excitement, -followed by some disgust when they -learned it was only “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les Messieurs qui s’amusent</i>.”</p> - -<p>Between three and four we invaded the -kitchen and made coffee and ate up the cake -on hand. Then we played cards till breakfast -time. Subsequently, most of those concerned<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span> -took a nap. The housekeeper and mother of -a family, however, was unable to.</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur also was unable to slumber long, -as she had promised to produce a birthday cake -before noon. For this same day which was to -witness the flitting of Antonio was further made -notable as the eighth anniversary of the appearance -on this mundane stage of the Elder Babe. -It had been arranged that the birthday feast, -including ice-cream from the village confectioner’s -and the birthday cake with its eight -candles, was to occur at midday, so that Antonio -might take part in it.</p> - -<p>It was not a wonderfully gay little party, -though we strove to make it so, for we all felt -that this was the beginning of the end of a -fairy-story summer, the breaking up of our little -band of Arcadians.</p> - -<p>It was raining in doleful sympathy as we -walked down to the station with the departing -Antonio and stood on the platform watching -the chunky little train that bore him away to -the every-day workaday world outside of Switzerland.</p> - -<p>We missed him very much. The “tropical<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span> -bird,” as we had occasionally called him, had -certainly brought an element of color and brilliancy -into our gray Anglo-Saxon lives.</p> - -<p>The next day we had a diversion in the shape -of an entirely unexpected call from an American -friend, who stayed to dinner and spent the -evening with us, but flitted away by an early -train the following morning.</p> - -<p>It was a very blue and brilliant morning -(the rainclouds all dissolved and scattered), -and we set forth on the Elder Babe’s real birthday -party, which the weather and Antonio’s departure -had made impossible on the day itself. -It was to be a glacier party and involve a guide -and roping!</p> - -<p>We picked out the guide haphazard from -the little group we passed just before reaching -the Upper Glacier. He was a heavily-bearded, -short, but powerfully built man of between -forty-five and fifty, and his name was Fritz -Biner. We were destined to know him much -better a little later.</p> - -<p>The Mother started out with us, but decided -she was not equal to the trip, so we left her -with her share of the lunch at the Châlet Milchbach<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span> -on the lateral moraine, from the veranda -of which she could watch our progress.</p> - -<p>We turned over the small boy to the special -care of the guide, who fastened their two waists -together with his rope. Then, for nearly a -thousand feet, we scrambled up the right bank -of the glacier, with the occasional aid of ladders -fastened to the rock, till we reached the -level part above the ice-fall, where the trail -crosses to the Gleckstein Club hut and the summit -of the Wetterhorn. Here, on the edge of -the glacier, we sat down and ate our luncheon.</p> - -<p>Then we were all roped together and proceeded -to the opposite side of the hummocky, -but not perilous, glacier, whence, leaving the -trail to the summit, we followed a narrow goat -path on a horizontal ledge of the Wetterhorn -cliff known as the Enge. It was nothing that -presented any terrors to the older members of -the party, who by this time had their heads -pretty well seasoned against dizziness, but it -would have made the writer extremely nervous -to conduct her small son along such a ledge, in -view of the (probably) thousand-foot drop at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span> -our left, had he not been securely roped fore -and aft.</p> - -<p>The young person in question, though enjoying -himself greatly, was clearly troubled by a -little doubt whether this highly delectable roping -had not been gotten up as part of the stage-setting -to amuse <em>him</em> and not because it was necessary. -He had imbibed a fine scorn for the -tourists who rope themselves to a guide while -ascending the pleasant path to the Châlet Milchbach, -just so as to say they have done it, and -he clearly did not wish to belong to any such -tribe himself. However, when we had gotten -almost to the end of the ledge and were just -about to unfasten the ropes, the sheer drop -beneath us having decreased to perhaps fifty -feet, the Babe, growing careless, twisted his -feet somehow, slipped and slid straight out in -the air and was brought up sharply by the rope. -This happy incident removed all doubt from -his mind and persuaded him, as nothing else -could have done, that the roping had been a -genuine mountaineering necessity!</p> - -<p>Down among the grassy pastures at the end -of the Enge we found the Mother waiting for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span> -us (who fortunately for her peace of mind had -<em>not</em> seen the falling incident), and the united -family tramped home together in great content.</p> - -<p>Not, however, till we had made a partial -engagement with Fritz Biner. We asked him -whether the end of the following week would -be too late in the season to go over the Strahlegg; -for we had developed an ambition to wind -up our last long pedestrian trip, which we were -about to start on, with a bit of genuine mountaineering. -He assured us it would not be and -expressed a desire to act as our guide. We -politely voiced the pleasure it would give us -to have him, but indicated that it would seem -simpler to take a guide from the Grimsel than -to have him come over to meet us there. He -replied justly that if a Grimsel guide should -accompany us to Grindelwald, he would have -to go back again, which would be just as far as -for him to go over after us. He further suggested -that at the Grimsel they would decline to -take us over without two guides, or at all events -a guide and a porter, whereas he, having seen -what expert climbers we were (!), would gladly -undertake to bring us over single-handed. This<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span> -argument appealed to us, though we left the -matter open that day in order to make inquiries -concerning Biner’s reputation. The result -being favorable, we arranged to telegraph -him from Andermatt what day he was to meet -us at the Grimsel.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX">XIX</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Two</span> days later, we were once more on the -road, Frater, Belle Soeur and I. We -were going up over the Faulhorn to Lake Brienz -on the other side, and just because it was so -easy to step out of our back door and start up -the slope and we had no prick of a train to -catch, we lingered around over last words and -last preparations a good hour longer than we -should have done. And for some reason that -day we did not walk with our usual snap. So -we reached the summit at tea-time instead of at -lunch-time.</p> - -<p>It had been a very beautiful trip up, with the -Grindelwald valley sinking lower and lower, -and the white peaks behind the Eiger and Wetterhorn -opening up more and more. The -Schreckhörner are wonderfully impressive from -this view and the Finsteraarhorn attains -nearly the majesty that belongs to it. The -early part of the way the prospect is framed -by the fir trees through which one looks. Above -the tree belt the foreground is still by no means<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span> -lacking in picturesque incidents, chief among -which are the cold round little Bach lake and -the jagged Röthihorn and Simelihorn peaks.</p> - -<p>On the summit, which is nearly nine thousand -feet high, there is a very solid little stone hotel -constructed to withstand the terrible storms -which sweep over so exposed a spot. Toward -Lake Brienz the drop is very steep,—almost -precipitate at first. One looks way over to -Lake Lucerne, Pilatus and Rigi. But when we -came there that region was covered with fleecy -white clouds, which looked like a great churned-up -foamy lake, with little mountain-peak islands -rising above it here and there. The effect was -singularly beautiful—much more so than any -topographic clearness could have been.</p> - -<p>As we drank our tea and enjoyed the view, -we made inquiries of the proprietor as to our -path downward to Giessbach on Lake Brienz. -He tried to dissuade us from attempting it, -saying the path was long, rough, and hard to -find, and we could not possibly get there before -dark. He said that professional delicacy prevented -his urging us to remain where we were -over-night, which would obviously be the most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span> -sensible thing to do, so he would suggest our -going to the Schynige Platte, where we <em>could</em> -arrive before dark and have a fine path all the -way. The Schynige Platte is an excursion -place on a lower spur of the Faulhorn ridge, -connected by rack and pinion railway with Interlaken. -We had resolutely kept away from -it all summer and had no notion of visiting it -now. Neither did we want to stay all night -at the Faulhorn. So we resolved to try for -Giessbach and trust to luck to get <em>some</em> shelter -if we did not make our destination.</p> - -<p>The proprietor disapprovingly pointed out -our route as far as he could. No one had been -that way for some days, and in the meantime -there had been a heavy fall of snow, so the first -part of our progress was not rapid, as we sunk -half-way to the knees at each step.</p> - -<p>After passing a curious rocky pinnacle like an -upward-pointing finger, which had been our first -land-mark, we got rid of the snow and were -able to descend quite rapidly across a rock-strewn -plain. It was here that we heard the -Whistling Marmots and marked one more of -our life ambitions achieved.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span></p> - -<p>I do not know why we had yearned so intensely -all summer for whistling marmots, but -we had,—even more than for edelweiss, which -is too obvious. Baedeker has a way of mentioning -them in very solitary places like the -Gries Pass or the Rawyl, but we had never met -them as scheduled. We had seen a marmot in -captivity in Grindelwald, but he was a very sad -and depressed little furry beast who would -never have dreamed of whistling. But here, -when we were least thinking of them, we must -have walked right into a marmot colony. We -heard their little voices calling to each other, -whistling unmistakably, and saw them scurrying -to their holes among the rocks as we approached.</p> - -<p>We lost our trail a dozen times, but having -some abandoned cheese huts just above the -woods to direct ourselves to, it did not greatly -matter.</p> - -<p>Once among the trees, how dark it got all of -a sudden! We took the wrong path and found -ourselves on the edge of nothing, retraced our -steps and started again. We were going just -as fast as we could, racing with the darkness,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span> -but we soon realized that, so far as Giessbach -was concerned, the race would be a losing one. -It was so piercingly cold that a night in the -open air sounded painful, and we kept on in -the hope of finding <em>something</em>.</p> - -<p>Just in the last moment of twilight we -emerged from the thick woods onto a grassy -shoulder upon which was an empty cow-shed. -Above it was a loft full of hay. On the ground -was a ladder. Nothing was locked. Perhaps -fifteen hundred feet below us we could see the -roofs of a group of huts, which appeared to be -inhabited—about such a place as Nieder Rawyl. -It was very doubtful if we could find our way -down to them through the woods, so dark had -it become, and we decided that a clean hayloft -to ourselves would be better than the hospitality -they could offer anyhow. So we decided to -stay. Fortunately we had ample left from our -luncheon to serve us for supper, and by skimping -a bit, we could save something for breakfast.</p> - -<p>We spent a long time trying to start a bonfire -at which to warm ourselves and dry our -snow-wet shoes. It could have been done by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span> -using loose boards which we saw lying around -outside, but we had conscientious scruples -against making ourselves quite so much at home -(or <em>some</em> of us had) and tried to construct the -fire from brush gathered in the woods, all of -which appeared to be water-soaked.</p> - -<p>At last, however, Frater’s bonfire skill triumphed, -and we sat down around a cheerful -little blaze and steamed out our very chilly -water-logged shoes and dress skirts and watched -the moon rise over the mountain top. Then, -when sufficiently warm, dry and sleepy, we -climbed up the ladder into the loft, buried ourselves -deep in the hay, and were soon lost to -consciousness.</p> - -<p>Anybody who has a lingering idea that there -is something poetic in sleeping among the fragrant -hay of a loft, had better revise his views. -It is distinctly tickly and scratchy and full of -dust. And the rats run in and out. However, -it is clean and warm, and if you’re tired -enough, it will serve.</p> - -<p>In the early gloaming we were awakened -by voices outside. Two men were circumnavigating -our hut engaged in earnest discussion.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span> -Probably they belonged in the huts below, had -seen our bonfire the night before and had come -up to find out what damage had been done. -Being satisfied on this point, they departed. -The ladder was standing against the side of -the barn where the loft door was and Belle -Soeur’s alpenstock was lying on the ground -below, so they must have known we were still -there, but they did nothing to disturb us. -Meanwhile we, having nothing to gain by an -interview, lay low and held our peace. Each -of us thought that the other two were asleep -and he or she was the only moral coward, but -we found later that we were three of a kind! -Really, though, the consciousness of being a -trespasser <em>does</em> put one at a disadvantage, and -the inability to communicate freely with a -patois-speaking peasantry increases the handicap.</p> - -<p>After our involuntary hosts had taken themselves -away, we emerged from our several nests -and picked the wisps of hay from each other. -It was very cold and gray at that hour, and the -inadequate fragments of stale sandwiches left -from the day before were not the most cheering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span> -sort of breakfast. When we had consumed -the last crumb and performed scanty ablutions -in an ice-water brook near by and left everything -snug and tight at our late lodgings, we -started downward. Our muscles were painfully -stiff at first, but gradually limbered -up.</p> - -<p>About nine o’clock we reached an outlying -refreshment house overhanging the Giessbach, -whose course we had been following for some -time, and here we stopped for a belated, but -much appreciated, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café-au-lait</i>.</p> - -<p>The rest of the day was, from the point of -view of a trio of tramps who had spent the -night in a hayloft after forgathering with -whistling marmots, distinctly civilized and -commonplace. We reached the level of Lake -Brienz and skirted it to the upper end where -the Aar flows in from the Meiringen Valley. -We cut across to the Brünig Pass road and -followed the gentle grade upward, lunching -late (in view of the nine o’clock breakfast) at -a roadside restaurant.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_243"><img src="images/i_243.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="498" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Brienz Village and Lake</em></p> -</div> - -<p>Not only railroad and carriages, but even -automobiles go over the Brünig, so it can be imagined<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span> -that it is not strenuous climbing, nor are -its views, though attractive, grandiose.</p> - -<p>After leaving the summit, we fairly annihilated -space, and by dinner-time had reached the -village rejoicing in the euphonious name of Giswil. -We put up at a rather comfortable inn -where we seemed to be the only guests, but the -proprietor’s children appeared so incredibly -numerous that we decided he had gone into the -hotel business to get their groceries at trade -rates.</p> - -<p>I asked the maid waiting on us at dinner -what time the train left for Lucerne in the -morning. She said she wasn’t sure, and would -I come down and examine the time-table in the -lower hall? It was a very large and complex -sheet, some three feet by six, but I thought I -could master a time-table—<em>any</em> time-table. We -all have our little vanities. I took plenty of -time at it and at last found the column and the -correct direction and emerged triumphant with -the information that the train left at 7.15, and -accordingly gave careful directions that our -coffee was to be ready at 6.30 and we were to -be called at 6.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span></p> - -<p>Things were just a trifle late next morning, -and as we were not sure of the distance to the -station, we bolted our breakfast and hurried -about the paying of our bill and walked at an -uncomfortably rapid gait, arriving with just the -desirable five minutes to spare, according to -our watches. To our surprise the ticket office -was closed. So were the baggage office and the -freight office. There was not an employee in -sight. Were our watches wrong? Had the -train already left? Even so, it seemed incredible -that the premises could have been completely -deserted so quickly. At last, having -nothing else to do, I began to study the time-tables -on the walls. And then I made a discovery. -The train we were trying to take ran -only on Sundays and the 12th of May, and it -wasn’t either! The regular week-day train -wasn’t due for an hour.</p> - -<p>I wish to say that the conduct of my companions -at this juncture was truly magnanimous. -The laugh was very distinctly on me, but they -didn’t laugh it. They expended all their risibility -on the 12th of May. That annual date -on which our train ran seemed to tickle their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span> -funny-bones exquisitely. They never once reproached -me for the too-hastily swallowed coffee -and the precious minutes of sleep that might -have been, but wandered off to visit the cemetery -or some such cheerful spot, while I read -Baedeker and kept guard over the knapsacks in -the waiting-room.</p> - -<p>If there <em>had</em> been a train when we thought -and we had only five minutes before it was due, -we certainly should have missed it, for I think -it took the station-master a good twenty minutes -to make out our tickets. They involved a whole -ten miles of railroad travel from Giswil to -Alpnachstad, and a boat trip from there to -Lucerne. The tickets were long folding affairs -in many sections, as for a trip across the continent, -filled in at many places with writing -(there was also a book in which the poor man -had to write an extraordinary amount), and I -think they cost us eighteen cents apiece!</p> - -<p>The approach to Lucerne by boat instead of -by train must be a very pleasant one in any respectable -sort of weather, but our day had -turned into a gray drizzle with a gale of freezing -wind. Mists and clouds shut out all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span> -mountains, and the face of the lake was lashed -into a sort of impotent baby fury. It was this -kind of a day, I am sure, when Gesler had -Tell unbound to take charge of the imperiled -row-boat. It was not perilous on a modern lake -passenger boat, but neither was it joyous.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_249"><img src="images/i_249.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="506" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Lucerne, Old Covered Bridge and Water Tower</em></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX">XX</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">When</span> we arrived at Lucerne nobody -shanghaied us in the pleasant Geneva -way, and as it was not even lunch-time, we resolved -to walk about and explore the town before -deciding where to lodge. We fed the -ducks and swans, wandered over the covered -wooden bridge inspecting the quaint old paintings -of the Dance of Death, beat around -through the older part of the town, and all at -once coming back to the river, beheld the Gasthaus -zu Pfistern.</p> - -<p>We had no sooner seen it than we recognized -our fate. The wall toward us was covered with -frescoes representing a great tree spreading -from cellar to garret, from whose branches, instead -of fruit, hung coats of arms. Away up -near the top in very big figures was the date -1579. Down below stood a gigantic warrior -in coat of mail with curling plumes. He was -a very satisfying warrior. The hotel was built -directly upon the river’s brink and its lowest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span> -story was hollowed out in lovely arcades, where -a fruit market was held.</p> - -<p>Let no one suppose it was a stylish hotel. It -had been chosen as the headquarters of the noncommissioned -officers of the artillery regiment -stationed at Lucerne. The dining-room was -full of cartridges and flags belonging to them -and trophies of the Schützenfest societies which -also met there. Otherwise I imagine the patronage -was chiefly from the smaller class of -commercial travelers. Of tourists, there was -never a hint.</p> - -<p>How we reveled in it! The clean little bedrooms -looked out pleasantly over the river and -city. But it was the dining-room that charmed -us most, with its great blackened old sideboard -twenty feet broad and the red wine poured from -huge stoneware flagons. They had a genius of -a cook at that place and another genius presiding -over the dining-room. I know not -whether she was an employee or the proprietor’s -wife or daughter, but she was a most cheerful, -capable, tactful young woman who put everyone -in a good humor on the spot. She told us -something of the history of the house. It had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span> -been built in 1579 as a guildhall for the bakers, -whose ancient name, now obsolete, was Pfistern. -The original frescoing had been preserved outside, -with only the necessary touching up from -time to time. This great dining-room, with its -huge rafters and lofty ceiling, had been the original -meeting-place of the craftsmen. Except -that she was evidently a very busy person, I -think we should have lingered to talk to her -half the afternoon instead of going out to see -the city.</p> - -<p>Once outside we did, perforce, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">faute de mieux</i>, -what everybody does, visited the ghastly War -and Peace Museum, the curio shops and Thorwaldsen’s -Lion.</p> - -<p>The next morning was scheduled for the ascent -of Rigi, but the weather continued too thick. -We spent the forenoon about Lucerne, shopping, -having a look at the old city ramparts and -the two-spired church. We still had a lingering -hope that it might clear off in time for us to -go up Rigi by rail. But it did not, and we took -an afternoon steamer for Tell’s Chapel, which -marks the spot where he is supposed to have -jumped ashore that day of the storm, pushing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span> -away the boat with his foot as he did so, and -thus escaping Gesler’s vengeance and getting -the chance to arouse the slumbering revolt -against Austrian tyranny.</p> - -<p>The Tell Chapel, with its paintings of incidents -in Tell’s life, is a sort of national pilgrimage -spot whose sacredness is not greatly -reduced by the fact that all educated Swiss now -admit that Tell himself was a myth. It is only -sentimental foreigners who know nothing about -him but his name and the apple story and perhaps -Schiller’s play, who insist on believing in -his reality.</p> - -<p>From the chapel we walked along the very -beautiful Axenstrasse that skirts the lake to its -terminus at Flüelen, regretting the clouds which -shut out all but the nearest mountains. Thence -we continued by ordinary highroad to Altdorf, -where the hat and apple incidents are supposed -to have taken place. They have a rather fine -but aggressively modern statue of Tell and his -little son (erected in 1895) in the village -square. During the summer the villagers play -Schiller’s Tell, once a week, I think. We had -intended to time our visit to Altdorf for one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span> -these representations. But the week devoted -to influenza had delayed us just too long, and -the dramatic season was over. The place is so -accessible to tourist routes that the play has -probably become sophisticated anyhow.</p> - -<p>We dined that evening at an inn near the -station and played cards to keep awake till the -St. Gotthard train came along. It was a slow -and crowded train, and we were very glad to -arrive about 11 P. M. at Goschenen and follow -the porter of the Lion to that very excellent -hotel.</p> - -<p>Next morning we were up betimes and starting -afoot over the St. Gotthard carriage road. -It is a very fine piece of engineering, zigzagging -back and forth in long loops to keep the grade -easy. The scenery is, like that of the Simplon, -Tête Noire and other carriage roads, picturesque -rather than magnificent. One of the chief -scenic elements is furnished by the Reuss, a -foamy mountain stream whose course the road -follows, the interest culminating at the famous -Devil’s Bridge.</p> - -<p>Everybody knows the story which has been -attached, with local modifications, to numerous<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span> -other bridges and buildings, about the engineer -who, finding his task too great for human skill, -invoked the aid of the Prince of Darkness. -This potentate gave his assistance in return for -the soul of the first passenger who should cross -the bridge. Whereupon the engineer, taking a -mean advantage of the Devil’s confiding nature, -drove over a dog.</p> - -<p>On the face of the rock above the bridge -there is a very crude painting much reproduced -on local postal cards of his Satanic Majesty, -very black, with horns and tail and breathing -fire from his nostrils, jumping back in surprised -disgust before the polka-dotted animal of uncertain -species who is trotting across the bridge.</p> - -<p>What interested us more than the hackneyed -devil legends was the armored gate with loop-holes -for musketry, whereby the Swiss government -can, when it chooses, effectually close this -road. In connection with the mountain batteries -known to exist on surrounding heights, -this gate would seem to make it practically impossible -for an invading army to get by.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_257"><img src="images/i_257.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="504" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>The Banks of the Reuss, Saint Gotthard Pass</em></p> -</div> - -<p>While discussing the thoroughness of the -Swiss defenses, we recalled the death of an -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span>Italian staff-officer a few weeks before who had -“accidentally fallen off of a precipice” while -taking notes in the forbidden Swiss zone, and -we decided we did not care to explore the near-by -heights.</p> - -<p>Not far from here was the scene of a fight -during the Napoleonic wars, and a monument -with an inscription in exotic characters is dedicated -to the Russians who fell there.</p> - -<p>At Andermatt quite a large detachment of -troops is stationed, and indeed we met members -of the Swiss citizen soldiery all along this -road.</p> - -<p>It was our intention to go to the summit of -the pass and then return to Hospenthal for the -night, but a thick snow-storm shut in around us, -and at the fork, which we afterwards learned -was only about a mile from the Hospice at the -summit, we evidently took the wrong branch, -and arriving nowhere, grew discouraged and -turned back. We lost nothing in the way of -scenery, as it was impossible to see ten feet in -any direction.</p> - -<p>At a considerably lower level we came upon -a little road-house and entered to get thawed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span> -out. Frater and I called for hot milk, but Belle -Soeur rashly ordered coffee. I do not know -of what strange herb this drink was brewed. -Certainly not the coffee bean. We suspected -catnip mixed with a decoction of hay. The -color was green and the flavor incredibly unattractive. -Belle Soeur decided that she also preferred -milk.</p> - -<p>We put up that night at the Hotel de la -Poste in Hospenthal, than which I never saw -a cleaner nor more severely plain little inn. -The postmaster’s wife ran it, and we found -her a most admirable Hausfrau. The postmaster -was, I don’t doubt, a most worthy character -also, but he and I had a battle royal over -my mail because I had no passport to claim it -with. I told him a visiting card was enough -at Geneva or Lucerne, and he said the postal -authorities there must be very lax. I showed -him Frater’s passport, which he said was all -right for <em>him</em>, but no good for <em>me</em>. However, -he handed me out my letters after a while, but -declined to turn over a package which Anna, -in a characteristic spasm of caution, had had -the unhappy thought of registering. I knew<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span> -just what articles it contained and told him in -detail, even to the darns, requesting him to open -the package if he wished to verify my statement. -This suggestion seemed to alarm the -old man, and he turned it over to me intact, -fortifying himself only by taking my signature -and address in a dozen or so different places. -But he regarded me with strong disapproval, -and frowned when we met, and I suspect his -kind old wife put an extra egg or so into the -omelet to make up!</p> - -<p>Hospenthal is a rather quaint little village -dominated by a robber baron’s castle—at -least, I think he was a robber baron. Anyhow -it makes a good photograph, and we took several -next morning as we started out, rejoicing -in sunshine and blue sky.</p> - -<p>We bought some black bread and cheese to -carry along for luncheon (all we could get, -but it turned out delicious—no hardship at all), -had the village shoemaker drive some new nails -into our soles, and swung off gayly to the right -on the Furka Pass road. This, with the Grimsel, -is one of the most interesting of the carriage-road -passes, the scenery toward the end<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span> -being quite wild and Alpine. The sparklingly -clear and bracing atmosphere added much of -course to our enjoyment.</p> - -<p>At a road-house where we stopped to get -something liquid after the dryness of our admirable -bread and cheese, we found the wall -adorned by a charcoal cartoon of slightly bibulous -aspect, left probably by some traveling -artist in lieu of paying his bill, and the following -ingenious poem:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Das Wasser ist von jeder Zeit</span></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Die Best von aller Menschengaben.</span></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Mir aber lehrt Bescheidenheit</span></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Man muss nicht stets vom Besten haben.</span>”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Which may be translated: Water is at all -times the best of all the gifts to man. Modesty, -however, teaches us that we should not -always take the best.</p> - -<p>We had intended stopping for the night at -the hotel on the summit of the pass, but were -so unfavorably impressed by the financial shiftiness -of the polyglot clerk who airily told us -that he spoke equally well “<em>französisch</em>, <em>englisch</em>, -<em>italienisch</em>—<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Was Sie wollen</i>,” and tried to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span> -double the Baedeker prices on us, that we -turned him down and walked on. Truth to tell, -we felt grave doubt as to whether we should -find any other accommodation short of the -Rhone Glacier Hotel, which it would have been -highly inconvenient for us to go down to. But -principle is a great thing, and we were prepared -to sacrifice ourselves for it.</p> - -<p>Luck was with us, though, and we found the -Bellevue, a first-class hotel on the upper brink -of the Rhone Glacier, still open, though preparing -to close on the morrow. We enjoyed -an excellent dinner and night’s rest after watching -the lovely views of glacier, valley and snow -mountains pass through the various phases of -sunset, twilight and full moon.</p> - -<p>In the morning we started out with a guide -across the glacier and over the Nägelis Grätli, -a stony height on the far side, from which the -views are very fine, and the path descends -directly to the Grimsel Hospice.</p> - -<p>To our surprise we found ourselves making -far better time than the Baedeker schedule. -We mentioned this to the guide, who said that -the path across the glacier had been shortened<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span> -several years ago, but Baedeker hadn’t found -it out yet. “Everything in this world changes, -except Baedeker,” he said, and was so much -flattered by our appreciation of his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bon mot</i> that -he repeated it at ten-minute intervals during -the rest of the trip.</p> - -<p>As soon as we saw our way clear ahead, we -sent back our guide, who was a little unduly -addicted to his cognac bottle as well as to his -Baedeker anecdote, and continued alone.</p> - -<p>The Grimsel Hospice and the two turquoise -lakes lay right below us. A yodel came floating -up through the clear air, and standing out -in front of the hotel we soon identified the -stocky form of Fritz Biner waiting for us.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI">XXI</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">At</span> the Grimsel we received and sent off -mail, including Belle Soeur’s and my knapsacks, -that we might be in the lightest possible -marching order. We also invested in provisions,—ground -coffee, cheese, bread, chocolate -and hard-boiled eggs. And Frater, at -Biner’s suggestion, humbled his pride so far as -to purchase an alpenstock. Also we indulged -in an excellent lunch.</p> - -<p>The weather had been beautiful all the morning, -as it had been the day before, but it did -not look so well after luncheon. The sky was -graying, and there was a suggestion in the air -of approaching snow. However, it was not -definitely bad and might be all right by morning, -so Biner thought there was no reason for -postponing our start.</p> - -<p>The method of crossing the Strahlegg is to -leave the Grimsel in the afternoon and spend -the night at the Dollfus Pavilion, one of the -Alpine Club refuge huts, and get a very early<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span> -start for the long day’s trip to Grindelwald. -There is another club hut, the Schwarzegg, on -the Grindelwald side of the pass, where the second -night can be spent if one is belated—a most -fortunate circumstance for us as it turned out.</p> - -<p>Biner broke to us the news that there was -another party besides ourselves of three “gentlemen” -going to start over the Strahlegg that -afternoon. We were quite disappointed at this, -for we wanted the club hut to ourselves, and -the scenery, too, for that matter, and had supposed -that so late in the season there would be -no trouble about it. However, it was the fortune -of war, and it seemed foolish to wait over -another day and risk bad weather to escape -them. Biner seemed to be rather pleased at -the prospect. He said it would make it much -easier and safer for us to join forces with the -other party and all be roped together for the -next day’s climb. We reserved decision on this -point.</p> - -<p>Shortly after lunch we started forth, so as not -to be hurried. The other party were ahead of -us. Our way led over glacier débris and along -a moraine, stony, scrambly, but presenting no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span> -difficulties. We seemed to be charging directly -at the Finsteraarhorn. The “Infant Aar” had -been lost to sight in the great glaciers that -gave it birth. We were approaching the heart -of the High Alps at last.</p> - -<p>By way of acquiring information, I asked -Biner as we walked along of what nationality -the gentlemen might be who belonged to the -other party. The question visibly embarrassed -him. “They are Swiss,” he said. “But—well, -they are <em>not</em> gentlemen. They are employees -of the Grimsel hotel, which is about to -close for the season, and they are going home -this way for pleasure. They are all good mountaineers, -so they will be very useful to us.” A -little more questioning elicited the fact that they -were the chief cook, the barber, and a stableman -who often served as porter to climbing -parties and hoped some day to be a guide. We -were rather relieved than otherwise by this information. -Tourists, if underbred, might have -proved annoying in such close quarters, but -these people would doubtless be entirely unobtrusive.</p> - -<p>The Dollfus Pavilion is a thick-walled stone<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span> -hut built on a cliff overhanging the glacier. -The altitude is 7850 feet. By the time we -reached it, the evening winds were holding high -and chilly carnival around it and the clouds -were closing down.</p> - -<p>As we opened the door of the hut, we stepped -into an atmosphere almost unbreathable with -wood smoke from the stove combined with -liquor fumes from a steaming kettle. Half-choking, -we beat a hasty retreat into the open -air. The occupants of the hut rushed out with -exuberant hospitality, begging us to come in -and get warm and partake of the “tea” they -were brewing. The smoke would soon be gone. -The fire had been hard to start, but was all -right now. We thanked them, but said we preferred -the outer air for the present. These -self-effacing hotel employees did not seem to be -turning out exactly as we had expected. We -had not reckoned on the cognac.</p> - -<p>It was cold outside and getting colder. -Snowflakes began sifting down on us. Had -there been any possibility of getting back to the -Grimsel we certainly would have done so. But -it was out of the question at that time. Presently<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span> -Biner came out and said our supper was -ready. He had had nothing to prepare except -the coffee.</p> - -<p>The smoke had cleared away, so we could -see the room, its furniture and occupants. -There was a long deal table with a bench at -each side, set with enamel ware cups and plates. -There was a small but energetic stove and a -simple outfit of cooking utensils. These were -all furnished by the Alpine Club. Printed -notices on the wall requested those availing -themselves of the hut to leave everything clean -and in order. An open door showed us the -hut’s other room. It contained a raised platform -heaped high with straw, long enough for -a dozen people to sleep on in a row. On a -cord above were hung a generous supply of -gray blankets.</p> - -<p>Considerably to our disgust, we found that -the other party’s supper and ours were to be -celebrated simultaneously. But in this refuge -provided for all alike, we clearly had no right -to object, if their own sense did not show them -the desirability of keeping to themselves. Our -guide, on the other hand, positively declined<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span> -to sit down at the table with us, whether to set -his fellow-countrymen a good example or simply -because he was on duty (which they were -not), I do not know.</p> - -<p>We gave Belle Soeur the protected seat in -the middle. Frater had the barber next to -him, and the stable man was next to me, the -cook beyond.</p> - -<p>Let me now state that the cook was, so far as -we were concerned, an entirely respectable and -unobjectionable member of society. If he -drank too much of their precious tea and cognac -mixture, he did not show it, and he did not -obtrude himself on us in any way.</p> - -<p>The barber did not show any signs of intoxication -at this time, but he was an unthinkably -unpleasant little beast, curled, powdered, perfumed, -dressed in a flamboyant tourist costume -which included plaid golf stockings and knickerbockers, -and possessed of a most colossal -nerve. He evidently regarded himself as a -lady-killer. He knew a few words of English, -and armed with them he proceeded to be polite -to Belle Soeur. Belle Soeur can be pretty chilly -when she likes and Frater’s snubs were of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span> -knockdown variety, but nothing seemed to make -any impression on the barber’s cuticle. He had -a camera along and offered to take our pictures -in the morning. This was finally declined so -that he understood it, but it took a battle-ship’s -broadside to do it. He appeared to be sure -that our feet must be cold and wet and that -we were too timid to avail ourselves of the -fleece-lined wooden shoes which are part of -the outfit of an Alpine hut. From the time of -our arrival at the front door to our retiring -for the night, he urged these shoes upon us at -fifteen-minute intervals.</p> - -<p>During supper the barber and the stableman -vied with each other in pressing upon us each -and every article of their rather elaborate -menu.</p> - -<p>The stableman was in the maudlin and verbose -stage. He assured us that among the -eternal snows of the upper Alpine regions all -social distinctions are obliterated, and high and -low, rich and poor, meet on a plane of equality. -(This in explanation of their sharing the table -and benches with us, I suppose.) I said unresponsively -that there could be no objection to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span> -anyone’s poverty and lowliness so long as he -was sober and respectable. At this he almost -dissolved into tears and confided to me that he -knew he had drunk too much, that it was a very -bad thing to do, that he was very sorry, but -what would you? After a summer’s hard work, -the first day of freedom, etc.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Frater, who could not follow the -German, was wanting to know whether my -neighbor was saying anything sufficiently objectionable -to merit personal chastisement. I reassured -him, and we tried to keep up the -conversation among ourselves, ignoring our -neighbors. But they declined to stay ignored -and kept offering this, that, and the other -article of food or drink. They seemed unable -to believe that our declining these overtures -was prompted by anything but shyness. “The -High Alps are not like cities,” the stableman -explained. “In the High Alps all men -are brothers and share all things equally. No -one feels any hesitation in either giving or receiving. -We are so small and helpless in the -hands of God! We must do all we can to help -one another.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span></p> - -<p>Shall I ever forget that hideous meal? We -got through as quickly as possible and left the -table. It was snowing too hard and was too -bitterly cold to go outdoors again. We went -through into the other room and shut the door -and held a council of war. Should we sit up -all night? That would involve returning next -day to the Grimsel. We clearly could not sit -up all night and take the trip over the Strahlegg, -too.</p> - -<p>It had seemed a matter of course to Belle -Soeur and me at the Nieder Rawyl cheese-hut -to roll up in blankets and go to sleep in an -apartment shared by our escorts and two cowherds. -It was physically uncomfortable, but -not in the least morally so. But the thought -of dividing that hay-heaped sleeping-shelf with -those drunken animals in the next room was -revolting to the point of nausea. It was impossible.</p> - -<p>Biner joined us for a few minutes and came -to our rescue with a suggestion. We could -curtain off a portion of the shelf for Belle -Soeur and me with blankets. No sooner said -than done. We chose our end, and in front<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span> -and on the unprotected side hung blankets. It -was arranged that Frater was to sleep immediately -outside and Biner next to him, so that -the precious trio of fellow-Alpinists would be -kept at as great a distance as possible.</p> - -<p>When we had completed our arrangements, -we sat down and tried to distract our minds -by playing cards. It was one of the saddest -games I ever indulged in. In the next room, -free from the restraint of our presence, the revelry -waxed more and more boisterous as the -cognac tea circulated. I was a bit worse off -than the others for catching a word here and -there of the talk. It did not make me happier -to realize that they were talking about <em>us</em>. I -learned afterwards that they were arranging -the order in which the combined parties were -to be roped next day. But the fragments that -I caught had a singularly unpleasant sound. -I did not wish to be a sensationalist and I knew -the limitations of my German, so I did not say -anything to the others about it, but I am afraid -my game of cards was <em>distrait</em>.</p> - -<p>This was my birthday. I had spent the previous -ones in very various quarters of the world -and in very various company—but never anything<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span> -like this before, and may the like never -be my lot again!</p> - -<p>Belle Soeur and I now retired to our tent, -which, after all, gave us as much privacy as -one gets in a sleeping-car, and Frater rolled -himself along our only unprotected boundary. -Naturally, we did not sleep. Aside from our -nervousness, the men in the next room were -making too much noise. I have no means of -knowing how late they kept it up, but it must -have been till after midnight. There were -moments when they seemed to be quarreling -violently, and we half-hoped they would wind -things up neatly by cutting each others’ throats. -At other times they were merely hilarious.</p> - -<p>All at once the door opened, and they rolled -in, still noisy, and bringing with them such a -smell of concentrated liquor as I never imagined. -They paused and gazed at the blanket-wrapped -form of Frater. “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ist das der Herr?</i>” -whispered the barber to one of his companions. -From the depths of the blankets I heard my -brother’s voice growl in disgusted English, -“No, you thundering fool, I’m the two -ladies.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span></p> - -<p>The revelers now disposed themselves for -slumber, but for another hour or two we heard -their giggles and whispers, and the alcohol -fumes in the close air were unspeakably nauseating. -From time to time Frater pressed my -hand under the blanket curtain to reassure me, -and I did as much for Belle Soeur.</p> - -<p>We were of course in no physical danger. -Not only could Frater and the guide have easily -handled the trio, but Frater could have done it, -I doubt not, single-handed. But the unpleasantness -of it was beyond words. We felt as if a -month of spiritual Turkish baths would hardly -make us clean.</p> - -<p>I have told this somewhat unsavory story in -all its unsavoriness as a warning to others, the -moral being that a party including ladies should -never plan for a night in an Alpine Club hut -unless they are assured of having it to themselves. -Mountaineering is not <em>all</em> poetry, and -there might be terrors encountered beside which -crevasses and avalanches become attractive.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII">XXII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Their</span> over-night celebration did not prevent -our fellow-travelers from getting up -about four o’clock so as to get a good start over -the pass. We told Biner we would arise later -and that he need not serve our breakfast till -after the others had gone. They finished their -breakfast, but still did not start. At last it -dawned upon us that they were waiting for <em>us</em>.</p> - -<p>We called Biner and expressed our sentiments. -We thought we had been sufficiently -emphatic before, but we left no doubt in his -mind this time that no earthly consideration -would induce us to make the trip in such company -and that if he felt unable to take us over -the pass in safety alone as he had agreed to do, -we would give up the trip and return to the -Grimsel.</p> - -<p>He started to tell us that the men were entirely -sober this morning, and were excellent -mountaineers, but I cut him off with a “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ganz -und gar unmöglich</i>.” We added that the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span> -weather was more than doubtful and that last -night’s fall of snow would make the trip more -dangerous and more difficult. In that case, we -said, we would wait over till the next day and -see if conditions improved. Biner sighed and -returned to the next room, where he made -known our decision, and the trio of objectionables -started, the irrepressible barber being the -only one who had the nerve to bid us farewell.</p> - -<p>We now emerged and had our breakfast. -We had pretty much decided to stay at the -Pavilion till next day, sending Biner back to the -Grimsel for firewood and provisions. It had -stopped snowing, but the sky was black and -the clouds hung low. However, about eight -o’clock it lightened up a bit, and Biner said he -thought it would do to start. It was late, but -there was always the Schwarzegg hut in case -we could not make Grindelwald.</p> - -<p>We were glad enough to escape a day of inaction. -So we bundled ourselves up and -started. My costume included winter flannels, -heavy shoes, high gaiters, corduroy jacket and -skirt, a flannel shirtwaist, a jersey of Frater’s, -buckskin gloves, and my broad-brimmed felt<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span> -hat tied down over my ears with a veil. This -had the double advantage of keeping it from -blowing away in some precarious spot where I -could not use my hands and of keeping my ears -from freezing. My costume, however, was inadequate. -I should have had woolen or fur-lined -gloves and fleece-lined shoes. My fingers, -toes, cheeks, and nose were all frost-bitten before -the day was over, and the suffering caused -by the cold was intense.</p> - -<p>Biner was the only one who had woolen -gloves, and he shared them with us, keeping -one hand gloved in order to have the use of it, -the other glove circulating among us three. I -do not think we could have kept the use of our -hands through the day had it not been for this -periodical thawing out of one hand at a time. -But how it did hurt! Biner should of course -have seen that we were provided with these -things before starting, but I fancy he credited -us with more knowledge of mountaineering than -we had.</p> - -<p>A short distance from the hut we were roped, -Biner first, I next, as interpreter, Frater next -and Belle Soeur bringing up the rear. We<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span> -walked up the Unteraar Glacier to its origin, -where the Lauteraar Glacier and Finsteraar -Glacier come together, then followed this latter -to the outlet of the Strahlegg Firn, up which -we turned.</p> - -<p>The snowfall of the night before made it -necessary for Biner to sound each step ahead of -him with his ice-pick. It happened several times -that the pick encountered no resistance, and -Biner, kicking aside the loose snow would uncover -a fissure or air-hole in the ice which had -been completely covered. This delayed us -somewhat, but the air was so cold and thin, -and we were in such poor condition, comparatively, -after our almost sleepless night, that I -doubt if we could have gone much faster had -the surface of the ice been clear.</p> - -<p>The Strahlegg Firn is a great snow pile, very -steep of surface, flowing between huge walls of -rock, on the right the Lauteraarhörner, on the -left the Finsteraarhorn and Fiescherhorn. -Down this gully, as we turned up it, swept a -bitter icy wind that almost took our breath -away. We had been ascending rapidly since -leaving the Dollfus Pavilion and were now not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span> -far from the ten-thousand foot level. The thinness -of the air made it seem almost impossible -to get enough oxygen to walk with. Each -breath was a labor, each step forward a triumph -of mind over matter. And it seemed each minute -as if that terrible wind would blow our -flickering life-force out like a candle flame.</p> - -<p>It would have been sensible, of course, to -turn around and go back. But who likes to accept -defeat? And we kept hoping, with baseless -optimism, that we had done the worst and -would soon strike something easier.</p> - -<p>At noon we had climbed nearly to the top of -the firn and stopped in the shelter of a big -bowlder for lunch. Ahead of us loomed a perpendicular -rock wall eight hundred feet high, -as we subsequently learned from one of Tyndall’s -Alpine books. It looked higher. At its -summit was the alleged Strahlegg Pass, which -we knew lacked just five feet of eleven thousand. -There was no sign of a path or any -way of getting up, but we knew human beings -went over there quite frequently, and we supposed -that on nearer approach some sort of a -trail would disclose itself. We did not question<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span> -the guide about it. The atmosphere did -not lend itself to extended conversation. We -kept our breath for the serious business of -life.</p> - -<p>It was a great relief to get out of the wind, -but the snowdrift we sat down in was by no -means warm, and our feet were by now extremely -painful. Just here Belle Soeur had an -attack of mountain sickness and had to lie down -flat in the snow and couldn’t eat her share of -the bread and cheese. If she was going to do -it, though, it was mighty fortunate she chose -lunch-time rather than a little later. The luxury -of this meal did not tempt us to linger -long, and we were soon under way again. We -had not even unroped.</p> - -<p>In the midst of this primeval solitude we -suddenly saw a human being. Nothing could -have surprised us more. It was a little black -speck of a man appearing on the upper brink -of the rock wall and starting to climb down. -Was it one of the party who had gone on ahead -of us, turning back to seek help after an accident? -Biner said not. Biner also said that -unless he was a professional guide, it was very<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span> -foolhardy of him to try to get over alone, and -that no guide who knew the route would ever -try to come down where he was starting to make -the descent. Presently his interest increased to -the point of saying that the man would infallibly -be killed if he didn’t turn around and go -back. We were horrified. But it was impossible -to warn the man at such a distance, even -by gesture.</p> - -<p>It shows how absorbing our own peril soon -became that we presently forgot all about him, -and when we thought of him some hours later -could only <em>hope</em> he got through all right. As -we heard nothing subsequently of a fatal accident -or of anybody’s disappearing, though we -made numerous inquiries, I suppose he escaped.</p> - -<p>He made things unpleasant for us for a time -by detaching stones and rock fragments in his -climbing which hurtled downwards with destructive -force. We made quite a detour to -the right to get out of the danger zone.</p> - -<p>We were now at the foot of our rock wall, -and there was no path, no trail, no ledge, no -deviation from the vertical. Still we might<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span> -have turned back, but we did not. The very -preposterousness of the thing held us. It was -<em>impossible</em> that there shouldn’t be some way of -getting up this cliff, which was not yet apparent!</p> - -<p>We started. Biner felt above his head with -the point of his ice-pick till he found a crack -which held it firm. Then, with surprising agility -for a man of his age and build, he drew himself -up till he could reach it with his fingers, -having previously located some little protuberance -or incision where he could rest his toe. -Keeping his grip with one hand, he leaned over -and helped me up with the other. Frater -climbed to the place I had just vacated and -pulled Belle Soeur up as Biner had pulled me. -By the time we realized the horror of it, we -went on because it seemed on the whole easier -than to go back.</p> - -<p>All the way up that eight hundred feet of -rock wall, there was never a ledge large enough -to rest on with the entire two feet at once! I -had read of such things in mountaineering -books, but had cheerfully supposed the descriptions -exaggerated. And we had believed the -Strahlegg Pass was hardly full-fledged mountaineering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span> -anyhow—just something a little more -strenuous than the Gries or Rawyl.</p> - -<p>I don’t know what thoughts passed through -the minds of the others, but mine beat a sort of -tattoo in my head like this: “You fool—<em>fool</em>—<span class="smcap">Fool</span>! -You’ve got two little children in -Grindelwald and a husband in the Philippines. -And you are going to break your neck within -the next ten minutes. And you aren’t accomplishing -anything under heaven by it. It’s just -sheer futile idiocy.”</p> - -<p>The numbness of my hands was so great that -my control over them was most uncertain. My -life and that of my companions depended on -the grip I should keep with those cramped, -aching fingers, but though I concentrated my -will-power on them I felt no certainty that the -next minute they would not become rigid and -refuse to obey me.</p> - -<p>Every once in a while the distance from ledge -to ledge would be too great for me to reach, -and Biner would lift me by the rope around -my waist. During those instants, when I had -loosened my own hold of hand and foot and -swung clear into space with nothing but an<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span> -inch of manila hemp and a man’s grip on it -between me and a horrible death, I thought of -the daily Alpine accidents I had been reading -about in the papers, I thought of the frequency -with which the rope parts at the critical moment, -I thought of my children in Grindelwald—and -I called myself names. The faculty to do a -very extensive amount of thinking seemed to -be concentrated in those instants, the phenomenon -probably being akin to that so often chronicled -of the last moment of consciousness by -those resuscitated from apparent drowning.</p> - -<p>I am more particularly relating here my own -sensations because I am most familiar with -them. Those of the others, with the possible -exception of Biner, were undoubtedly equally -vivid. Each of us was perfectly conscious that -if any one of us slipped, all four would go down. -In the nature of things, we had none of us a -grip or foothold sufficiently secure to resist a -sudden jerk such as would come if one were to -fall.</p> - -<p>After the first few minutes, I never looked -downward. I was not inclined to dizziness, but -the drop was too appalling. The others told -me afterwards that they also abstained from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span> -looking down. We concentrated eyes and -thoughts on the few feet of rock immediately -around and above us.</p> - -<p>Several times on the way up, puffs of biting -wind would come down the face of the cliff -which it seemed must surely blow us loose. At -such moments we stopped climbing and flattened -ourselves against the rock, clinging as -we loved our lives.</p> - -<p>Once we got all four on a little ledge not as -wide as the length of our feet, but solid enough -to stand on without balancing. We paused -there to take breath, and somebody said “Cognac.” -Now our experience in the Alpine hut -the night before had nearly made teetotalers of -us. But at this moment we decided that stimulants -<em>might</em> have a legitimate use. Frater produced -his silver pocket flask and handed it -around. We took a swallow in turn, and -it was like liquid life running down our -throats. I never experienced anything so magical. -(Here I am describing my own sensations -again!) I was at the very last point of -endurance. I had lost faith in ever reaching -the summit of the cliff. I had no more physical -force with which to lift my sagging weight upward.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span> -I had lost the will-power that lashes -on an exhausted body. My numb hands were -stiffening. My lungs were choked and laboring. -I could neither go on nor go back. Then -those two teaspoonfuls, or thereabouts, of fiery -cognac that burned down my throat sufficed -to give me back my grip on myself, physical -and mental. I moved my cramped fingers, and -they answered. I took a deep, long breath and -felt strengthened. A hope, almost a confidence, -crept into my heart, that with God’s help we -might reach the top alive.</p> - -<p>Then we went on and on and on. The same -thing, with our eyes always upward, but not -far ahead. At last Biner clambered on to -what was evidently a broad ledge, for he knelt -on it and, leaning over, gave me his hand to -help me up. It was a long reach, and as I got -one knee on the ledge and started wearily to -lift the rest of my weight, he gave me a pull -and push that rolled me lengthwise over the -brink, and to my wonderment I found a resting-place -for my whole body.</p> - -<p>“This is the summit,” said Biner. I had not -known we were within five hundred feet of it.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII">XXIII</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">If</span> Biner had known we were nearing the -top, he kept it to himself. To us three -it came as an entire surprise—and an unspeakably -joyous one. We were still alive. That -was the main point. We had surmounted that -inconceivable cliff and were still alive!</p> - -<p>However, we could not stop long to rejoice. -The summit of the pass was barely big enough -to stand on. The wind swept across it furiously -and the cold was unbearable. Above us on -either side rose the rocky, snowy peaks of the -Finsteraarhorn, Lauterhorn and Schreckhorn -groups, only a few thousand feet higher than -we were. Behind us was the precipice we had -just climbed. Before us dropped very, very -steeply, yet not in a precipice, a much longer -slope of snow, at the bottom of which lay a -great glacier. The distance, Biner said, was -three thousand feet, and we absolutely <em>must -not</em> slip, as there would be no stopping-place -short of the bottom. He made Frater and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span> -Belle Soeur change places, so as to put Frater’s -strength at the rear for bracing back should -any of us start sliding. However, he impressed -it upon us that we <em>must not</em> slide. He told us -afterwards that he was much more afraid of -this part of the trip than of the climb up the -cliff, but it was by no means so fear-inspiring -to <em>us</em>, nor so physically exhausting.</p> - -<p>It was a shame to leave that tremendous, awesome, -Walpurgisnacht revel of glacierdom visible -from the summit of the pass so soon. But -flesh and blood could not endure the freezing -gale.</p> - -<p>The last night’s fall of snow added much to -the danger of the descent, as it made the surface -treacherous. Biner cut out each step ahead -of him with his ice-axe, taking care to get down -to the hard-packed surface beneath. As he -put his foot in it, I put mine in the step he had -just vacated. Belle Soeur took my last resting-place -and Frater hers. It was slow, and we -had our minds firmly fixed on not sliding. But -it was heaven compared with the cliff climb!</p> - -<p>The rest of the afternoon’s trip, between -rocks and ice, was strenuous, and we should<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span> -have considered it highly perilous before our -last experience. But now we took everything -as a matter of course. We were in the midst -of very wild and magnificent scenery, of which -the continued cloudiness somewhat impaired -our view, while the intense cold and our knowledge -of the flight of time kept us from lingering -to enjoy what we <em>could</em> see. As it was, we just -barely reached the Schwarzegg hut before dark.</p> - -<p>To our great relief, we found it empty. The -other party had gone on to Grindelwald. -Never, I am sure, was a refuge more gratefully -and joyously entered. It was not so large as -the Dollfus Pavilion, having only one room. -But it was Waldorf-Astoria and Paradise all -rolled into one to <em>us</em>!</p> - -<p>We put two francs in the tin box on the wall -and took a bundle of wood from the closet (at -the Dollfus we had to bring our own fuel with -us), and in a few minutes Biner had a fire -crackling in the stove. We took off our ice-caked -shoes and stood them by the stove whence -arose a steaming vapor for hours. Belle Soeur -and I stuffed our wooden clubhouse shoes full -of straw to keep them on, and getting rid of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span> -our skirts, which were frozen stiff as boards -almost to the waist, we hung them also to steam -near the stove and wrapt ourselves, Indian fashion, -in gray blankets. We were enduring acute -physical pain as our frozen toes and fingers -thawed out, but our minds were so at ease that -we did not care.</p> - -<p>Soon Biner was handing us great tin cups full -of steaming coffee.—Oh, the joy of it!—And as -we drank scalding gulps of it between bites of -bread and cheese, we were as happy a little -party as one would care to see. And then we -rolled up in, oh, ever so many blankets, six pairs -apiece, I think, and went to sleep in the straw -on the shelf.</p> - -<p>We did not get a very early start next morning. -It was so luxurious to take things easy! -The coffee was a second brewing from last -night’s grounds, and the bread and cheese a -little scanty, but we didn’t mind. We knew we -should soon be where we could get more.</p> - -<p>The view in the morning was very, very beautiful. -At first the whole Grindelwald valley -was covered with fleecy white clouds and even -the glacier immediately below thrust only an<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span> -ice crag here and there through the foamy mist. -The hut was on a rock ledge over this great -ice river, which, sweeping downward, becomes -the Lower Grindelwald Glacier. Gradually the -air cleared, the upper regions first, the sky above -disclosing itself a dazzling and unspotted blue, -while the cloud strata below us were still intact.</p> - -<p>What a magnificent day it would have been -for going over the Strahlegg, had we only -waited!</p> - -<p>We stood for a long time outside the hut, -ready to start, but hating to leave the magnificent -spectacle presented as the clouds below us -dissolved.</p> - -<p>There is a passage in Manfred which describes -wonderfully just this scene:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Our way, it is true, did not lead us out of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span> -sight of our magnificent views, but we knew we -could only give them a divided attention when -we had started climbing.</p> - -<p>The Schwarzegg hut being put in excellent -order and the last two-francs-for-fuel piece -dropped in the box, we bade the place a grateful -farewell, adjusted the faithful rope once more -and started along the trail—there really <em>is</em> one -from here on—which skirts the right bank of -the glacier. Wherever there is a bad stretch -of rock to be gotten up or down, iron spikes -have been driven in, affording foothold and -handhold. What luxuries iron spikes would -have been the day before in that much more formidable -cliff we had to climb!</p> - -<p>I wouldn’t recommend the walk between the -Bäregg and the Schwarzegg hut to children or -invalids, nor should it be undertaken without a -guide, but it presents no real difficulties or dangers -to vigorous young people with steady heads -and a little climbing experience. We were even -able to enjoy the scenery.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_295"><img src="images/i_295.jpg" alt="" width="414" height="600" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>The Glacier from below the Schwarzegg Hut looking -towards the Strahlegg and Schreckhorn</em></p> -</div> - -<p>The mists gradually all rolled away and revealed -the green Grindelwald valley and its -clustered châlets, not quite so far to the right -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span>as the Edelweiss, but still we felt very close -to home.</p> - -<p>After a couple of hours’ climbing, we were -able to dispense with the rope, which we did -with decided relief at regaining our individual -liberty. We had been roped the day before -for ten and a half consecutive hours.</p> - -<p>Arriving at the Bäregg inn, we ordered <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café -complet</i> served at the table outside (for the -thought of a room suffocated us), removed a -few layers of wraps become unnecessary at this -lower level, and had a very refreshing repast.</p> - -<p>We were objects of intense interest to a -party of English tourists of both sexes who had -walked up from the valley, whether wholly on -account of our late mountaineering hardships -and achievements, doubtless communicated from -our guide to theirs, or partly because of our -undeniably disreputable appearance, I do not -know. But we had the prestige of the High -Alps about us and did not care for the strange -red glaze which the successive action of frost -and sun had left on our faces or the bloodshot -surface of our eyes. We bore ourselves proudly -as befitted our estate, and were conscious all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span> -way home of the interest, sometimes not unmixed -with envy, which we excited.</p> - -<p>At the turn of the road before reaching -the Châlet Edelweiss, we met the Mother -watching for us, who had become alarmed at -the delay in our arrival. She had decided if -we did not appear by two o’clock (it was then -about half-past one) that she would call on the -curate of the English Chapel, who is also a -famous mountain-climber, and ask him to organize -a search party.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV">XXIV</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> account of our Swiss summer ought -properly to end with our trip over the -Strahlegg. It was certainly the climax of our -experiences. I do not know that any earthly -inducement could persuade us to repeat that -trip (I speak with certainty in my own case). -But, <em>having</em> done it, and having come through -alive, we would not for the world be without -the thrilling memory of it.</p> - -<p>Biner said that after our late trip under the -existing conditions, we would find the ascent of -either the Jungfrau or Wetterhorn very easy, -and he would like to take us up. But we were -willing—oh, quite willing—to take this easiness -on faith. We had not forgotten that he had -also called the Strahlegg easy in advance. And -Providence does not like to be tempted too -often.</p> - -<p>There was just a week from the day of our -return till the day of Frater’s leaving us to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span> -catch a steamer in Genoa, and just another -week till we should all leave.</p> - -<p>The first thing we wanted was rest in wholesale -quantities and the doctoring of feet and -fingers.</p> - -<p>Emerging from this, we chose the second -day for the celebrating of my birthday, which -it had not been feasible to do on the proper -date. I was the recipient of some very delightful -gifts, including an elaborate pyramidal bouquet, -with an accompanying note of pleasant -sentiments from Suzanne and Anna. Belle -Soeur made one of her famous cakes and the -candles were sprinkled on top with appalling -thickness—a perfect forest of them.</p> - -<p>The birthday dinner turned itself, quite unexpectedly, -into a fancy dress affair. I was making -my toilet for it on the usual lines and had -reached that point in my coiffure, when my -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chevelure</i> was disposed in two long ringlets -hanging down each side of my face and neck. -I had just picked up my comb to run through -them, when the Elder Babe, coming into the -room on some errand, began to call out frantically, -“<em>Don’t</em>, don’t touch those curls, Mother!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span> -Leave them just as they are! Come to dinner -<em>that</em> way! You look just like a little girl!”</p> - -<p>I smiled and picked up the comb again, but -I had miscalculated the seriousness of my son’s -enthusiasm. He rushed to the sitting-room -door and called his grandmother, aunt and -uncle to his assistance. “Come and look at -Mother! Don’t let her comb out those curls! -Make her come to dinner that way!” He was -prancing around like a little bacchante in the -joy of the thought.</p> - -<p>The three grown-ups appealed to entered into -the spirit of the occasion and backed him up. -I yielded the point, gracefully I trust, but stipulated -that if I was to have a little girl’s coiffure -I would wear a little girl’s dress. Belle Soeur -offered me her stock of lingerie to select from, -it being more ornamental than mine, and I was -soon arrayed in a very dainty lace-trimmed -white gown with low neck, short sleeves, and a -skirt slightly below the knees. With the addition -of silk hose and shoon, a sash, shoulder -knots and hair ribbons, all of pink, I really -wasn’t such a bad-looking little girl!</p> - -<p>We had a very merry, foolish, light-hearted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span> -evening, the children being in ecstasies over this -new effect in mothers, and the servants almost -equally so.</p> - -<p>This sportive little festival seems to me now -like something that happened in another incarnation. -It required the absolutely perfect physical -condition we had all reached by then and -the effervescence of the mountain air to make -it possible. But it was the last exuberance.</p> - -<p>The season was nearly over. We were soon -going back to the world of commonplace. With -what reluctant melancholy we clung to those -last days, trying to stretch out the hours past -their natural limit!</p> - -<p>One day Frater and I went to Interlaken for -some shopping. He walked both ways, but I -went down by train. We were late starting -back and wasted a mile or so by attempting a -short cut as we left the town. During the summer -the long, long twilight had been a noticeable -feature. It was still daylight at nine -o’clock. But now it got dark by seven or before -and the last hour of our walk was in such -inky darkness that we could scarcely make out -the highroad in front of our feet. We saw the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span> -lights of the village glimmering a welcome long -before we reached it, and had developed a wonderful -appetite for our belated dinner by the -time we arrived at the châlet.</p> - -<p>Another day we made our long-projected trip -to the Lauterbrunnen valley. It was one of -those things so perfectly easy to do that all -summer long we had not done it. Frater and -I walked over the divide by way of the Männlichen, -where we ate our lunch and bade an affectionate -farewell to that grandest of panoramas, -passing down the other side through -Byron’s Wengern Alp to the village of Lauterbrunnen, -where at tea-time we met the Mother, -Belle Soeur and the Elder Babe, who had come -by train. The Mother was the only member -of the crowd who felt wealthy enough to take -the trip to Mürren, a summer resort on a great -cliff overlooking the Lauterbrunnen valley on -the far side, commanding a fine view of the -Jungfrau, with the deep valley well in the foreground. -It is reached by a very steep-grade -cable and electric railway. The rest of us contented -ourselves with walking to the Staubbach -Falls.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span></p> - -<p>The waterfalls of the Lauterbrunnen valley -have a great reputation, as they drop over a -cliff about a thousand feet high and turn to -spray long before they reach the bottom. But -their volume is so insignificant that they are -little more than a silver ribbon, and while interesting, -they are certainly not equal to their -reputation. The great falls of the Yosemite -(to which they are often compared) would -dwarf them utterly.</p> - -<p>We all walked together down the Interlaken -highroad, turning back frequently to watch the -sunset lights on the Jungfrau, to the joining -of the Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald valleys, -where we boarded the train for home.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a id="image_305"><img src="images/i_305.jpg" alt="" width="650" height="494" /></a> -<p class="caption center"><em>Lauterbrunnen</em></p> -</div> - -<p>This was our very last excursion. There -were a few things we had meant to do and -hadn’t had time for, chief of them the ascent -of the Schwarzhorn, a nine-thousand-foot peak -behind us, to the east of the Faulhorn. It -might at this time have been more appropriately -named Weisshorn, for the autumn snows -had covered all its black rock ledges. Belle -Soeur and I had a notion we might still do it -alone during the week after Frater left. But -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span>we didn’t. And there had been a great many -things that we had intended to do over again, -but found no time for.</p> - -<p>Before we knew it, it was October 3rd, and -we were seeing off Frater at the station.</p> - -<p>I must not forget about the conveyance of -his baggage thither. He and Antonio had -brought no trunks with them, but each had a -large telescope bag, which held as much as a -small steamer trunk. When Antonio left, he -had hired a lad with a hand cart, who lived -in a châlet to the rear of us and was one of a -large and impecunious family who liked odd -jobs and old clothes and the left-overs from our -table, to take it to the station for him. The -day before Frater’s departure, we told Anna -to engage the lad again. What was our surprise, -as the time drew near to leave for the -station, when there appeared, instead of the -boy and his cart, his fourteen-year-old sister -with a rack on her back. She explained that -her brother and the cart had an all-day’s job, -and she had come in his place to take the gentleman’s -valise to the station. The poor girl -already had her shoulders curved by the carrying<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span> -of burdens. It seemed brutal to let her do -it, yet even more so to deny her the chance of -earning a little money. Besides, it was quite -too late to get any one else, and Frater admitted -that <em>he</em> was unequal to carrying the -thing a mile and a half. So off we trudged -in a procession, the young portress bringing up -the rear, and we told Frater this little service -from a member of the “housely herd” furnished -the fitting last touch of “local color” -to his Swiss summer.</p> - -<p>Our last week was given over to packing and -paying bills and cleaning house and all sorts -of prosaic last things. I do not remember that -we went anywhere except to the Upper Glacier -and the village. I do remember the snow -though. We had said many times during the -season that we wished we could see our beloved -Grindelwald valley in its winter dress, but we -hardly expected our wish to be granted. It -was, though, most fully, and with effects unspeakably -beautiful. We had a regular roaring -blizzard for about three days, during which -we kept the cylinder stove in the lower hall -burning furiously, and abandoned the second<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span> -story as uninhabitable. I fancy the owners do -the same in the winter. The little hall stove -and the kitchen stove can hardly be said to have -kept the lower story comfortable. We could -still see our frosted breath. But they made life -endurable.</p> - -<p>When it cleared off, we looked out at a veritable -fairyland. All the world was buried -under at least a foot of the purest white snow -imaginable. Every tree was bending its -branches beneath the burden of it. The mountains -were dazzling. Even the rocky cliffs of -Wetterhorn and Mettenberg had the soft white -powder adhering to their perpendicular surfaces. -If we had had any way of keeping ourselves -even half-way comfortable indoors, I do -not see how we could have torn ourselves away -from it!</p> - -<p>I regret to have to chronicle that our last -hours were marred, beyond the inevitable sadness -of parting and the inevitable fatigue of -packing, by the inexplicable conduct of the Herr -Secundärlehrer and his Frau. It is the well-known -habit of landlords on the continent to -run up a bill on their tenants for breakage,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span> -wear and tear, and “extras” limited only by -their idea of the workableness of the persons -they are dealing with. But the Herr Secundärlehrer -and his wife had seemed so utterly -honest and straightforward, so trusting and unmercenary, -that I had no anticipation of anything -of the sort from them. They had not -wanted a lease or an inventory or their money -in advance or any of the things the typical landlord -looks out for. They had declined payment -for ever so many things that they might -legitimately have taken it for. So it <em>was</em> a -shock when the bill came in.</p> - -<p>I had had great difficulty in getting it. They -were evidently saving it for the last moment. -Finally, after repeated requests and messages -on my part, it was handed through the kitchen -window by the Frau to the cook late Saturday -evening, the Frau immediately vanishing into -the darkness.</p> - -<p>The Mother, Belle Soeur and the Elder Babe -were leaving Sunday morning early with most -of the baggage. Suzanne, the Younger Babe, -and I, after the last house-cleaning, were to -leave by the same early train Monday, rejoining<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span> -the others at Lucerne. All day Sunday I -tried to get hold of either the Secundärlehrer -or his wife. I was told that he was sick—that -he was asleep—that his wife was busy. Finally, -after an especially emphatic message, late -in the afternoon, the Secundärlehrer appeared, -looking very much the worse for wear (as was -sometimes the case with him on Sunday, I regret -to say, after a convivial Saturday evening -with cronies in the village) and in a very bearish -humor.</p> - -<p>I have always been of the opinion that his -wife did not approve of the bill and kept away -because she was ashamed. Certainly she never -appeared again on our horizon to say good-bye, -and I had to send the keys to her by Anna when -we left. I am also of the opinion that the Secundärlehrer -had been put up to that bill -by some of his worldly-wise friends in the -village and coached what to say when I objected.</p> - -<p>The bill was about three-quarters of a yard -long, and though it was not very enormous in -its sum total (the extras were inside of a hundred -francs), many of the items were so preposterously<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span> -unjust that one could hardly accept -them meekly.</p> - -<p>One of the foremost was the bath tub. I -think it was twenty francs that was put down -for the use of it. The bath tub was a full-sized -porcelain-lined one which the Herr had -ordered in a spasm of modernness before he -rented the house to us, but which arrived only -after our installation. They put it down outside -the house and left it there for some days -till I made inquiries. The Herr explained to -me that he thought every progressive family -should own a bath tub and that he had intended -putting it in the little room opening off the -kitchen. This was the only place we had to -keep provisions in, the kitchen itself being quite -too tiny, and I really couldn’t give it up, but -my soul yearned for that bath tub. The Herr -then suggested that it could be put up on the -porch (the one we did not take our meals on), -connected with the water faucet in the kitchen -by a length of garden hose, and surrounded -by curtains. He said his wife would see to the -curtain part if we would permit them to bring -their children over once a week for a bath.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span> -It was so arranged, and a very funny out-door -bathroom it was. The children of the neighborhood -were so much interested in its workings -that one felt little privacy inside, even after -having sent Anna out to shoo them away and -expended a paper of safety pins on the blowing -curtains. When I objected to being charged -for this luxury, the Herr informed me that at -a hotel we would have had to pay a franc apiece -for every bath we took, at which rate it would -have amounted, in the course of the season, -to much more than twenty francs. He knew -this was so, because he had once taken a bath -at a hotel and been charged a franc.</p> - -<p>The item of cellar rent was another which I -objected to. There was a small cellar under -the rear part of our house which I had said I -must have the use of when negotiating. It was -much encumbered with many things which they -said they could not move out, but we were quite -welcome to use it too. After about a month -they told Anna that this joint use was inconvenient -to them and that they would give us a cellar -room to ourselves under the neighboring -school-house. It gave Anna a great many extra<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span> -steps going over there for milk and -other supplies, but she bore it patiently in order -to be obliging. But to be charged extra for -the discomfort was trying!</p> - -<p>When I voiced this sentiment, the Herr Secundärlehrer -launched forth into a most extraordinary -tirade about having lost several hundred -francs from the wine he had bought to -sell to me, which I had not purchased, and his -great magnanimity in not putting this on the -bill. This was so unaccountable that I could -hardly believe my ears. “But I never authorized -you to buy any wine for me,” I naturally -protested. “Of course you didn’t,” was his -astounding reply, “you were entirely too clever -to do that.” Considering that this was the first -time the subject of his selling wine to me had -ever been broached, this was to say the least -puzzling. Was it just plain bluff and bluster -to divert attention from the items on the bill, -or is there some unwritten law in the Oberland -that you buy wine from your landlord when you -rent a house?</p> - -<p>I cut the interview short, rather glad that -I did not understand all the words he had used,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span> -paid the somewhat diminished bill, and had -the landlord shown out. Far worse than the -mere disagreeableness of it, was the blow to -my ideals of these simple, honest people. And -yet I will not believe that I had been altogether -mistaken in my first estimate of them. Their -education was a somewhat superficial matter. -The peasant nature, with all its suspiciousness of -the foreigner as such, its obstinacy and intolerance, -was very close to the surface under the -Herr Secundärlehrer’s thin veneer of culture. -I have an idea that he suspected me of having -known at the beginning that Frater and Antonio -were coming and kept it from him, though -as I offered when I informed him of their prospective -visit to pay him either a lump sum extra -or lodging rates according to the time of their -stay, as he preferred, it is a little hard to see -wherein he could have thought advantage was -taken of him. However, I suppose it came -somehow under the head of my unprincipled -cosmopolitan cleverness.</p> - -<p>Whether it was this or whether it was some -other thing, I am sure he had had his feeling -of ill usage inflamed by village cronies, grown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span> -worldly-wise among the tourists, and was led -to believe by them that any weapon would do -for getting even. Here is where I think his -wife, a much stronger and finer character than -he, disapproved. I think she held more or less -unflattering views of us (our ways of life were -very different from hers,) but I believe she felt -it unworthy to embody her disapproval in the -bill. While she never appeared again, she did -one or two nice little things at the end for our -comfort which made us feel she was trying to -make up.</p> - -<p>If this was a story, it would never end like -this—the merry company scattered, the green -summer gone, the honest couple who should -have been our friends turned into suspicious -hostiles, keeping out of sight and churlishly -avoiding a farewell, the gray cold early dawn, -Anna with her belongings heaped on the porch, -tearfully bidding us good-bye and waiting to -turn over the keys to the Frau Secundärlehrer, -whom she was deadly afraid of, Suzanne, the -Younger Babe and I, all bundled up in winter -wraps climbing into the Red-headed Man’s carriage, -and driving off to the station over the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span> -creaking snow, while all the valley and all the -mountains lay hushed in still white slumber.</p> - -<p>But this is not a story. It is a simple chronicle -of facts, which I have told as they happened, -the bad with the good, the sordid with -the beautiful. And this was really the END.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OBERLAND CHÂLET ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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