About eight o’clock on the morning after our travellers arrived at Interlachen Rollo awoke, and, rising from his bed, he walked to the window and looked out, expecting to find before him a very grand prospect of Alpine scenery; but there was nothing of the kind to be seen.

Before the house was a garden, with a broad gravel walk leading out through it to the road.  On each side of this walk were parterres of shrubbery and flowers.  There were also two side approaches, wide enough for roads.  They came from the main road through great open gates, at a little distance to the right and left of the hotel.  The main road, which was broad and perfectly level, extended in front of the house; and two or three Swiss peasants, in strange costume, were passing by.  Beyond were green and level fields, with fruit and forest trees rising here and there among them, forming a very rich and attractive landscape.  The sky was covered with clouds, though they were very fleecy and bright, and in one place the sun seemed just ready to break through.

“I thought Interlachen was among the mountains,” said Rollo to himself; “and here I am in the middle of a flat plain.

“I will go and see uncle George,” he continued after a moment’s pause, “and ask him what it means.”

So Rollo opened the door of his room and went out into what in America would be called the entry, or hall.  He found himself in a long corridor paved with stone, and having broad stone staircases leading up and down from it to the different stories.  In one place there was a passage way which led to a window that seemed to be on the back side of the hotel.  Rollo went there to look out, in order to see what the prospect might be in that direction.

He saw first the gardens and grounds of the hotel, extending for a short distance in the rear of the building, and beyond them he obtained glimpses of a rapidly running stream.  The water was very turbid.  It boiled and whirled incessantly as it swept swiftly along the channel.

“Ah,” said Rollo, “that is the River Aar, I suppose, flowing through Interlachen from one lake to the other.  I thought I should see it somewhere here; but I did not know whether it was before the hotels or behind them.”

A short distance beyond the stream Rollo saw the lower part of a perpendicular precipice of gray rock.  All except the lower part of this precipice was concealed by the fogs and clouds, which seemed to settle down so low upon the landscape in all directions as to conceal almost every thing but the surface of the ground.

“I wonder how high that precipice is,” said Rollo to himself.

“I wonder whether I could climb up to the top of it,” he continued, still talking to himself, “if I could only find some way to get across the river?  There must be some way, I suppose.  Perhaps there is a bridge.”

Rollo then turned his eye upward to look at the clouds.  In one place there seemed to be a break among them, and the fleecy masses around the break were slowly moving along.  The place where Rollo was looking was about the middle of the sky; that is, about midway between the horizon and the zenith. While Rollo was looking at this break, which seemed, while he looked at it, to brighten up and open more and more, he saw suddenly, to his utter amazement, a large green tree burst into view in the midst of it, and then disappear again a moment afterwards as a fresh mass of cloudy vapor drifted over.  Rollo was perfectly bewildered with astonishment.  To see a green tree, clear and distinct in form and bright with the beams of the sun which just at that instant caught upon it, breaking out to view suddenly high up among the clouds of the sky, seemed truly an astonishing spectacle.  Rollo had scarcely recovered from the first emotion of his surprise before the clouds parted again, wider than before, and brought into view, first a large mass of foliage, which formed the termination of a grove of trees; then a portion of a smooth, green field, with a flock of sheep feeding upon it, clinging apparently to the steep slope like flies to a wall; and finally a house, with a little blue smoke curling from the chimney.  Rollo was perfectly beside himself with astonishment and delight at this spectacle; and he determined immediately to go and ask his uncle to come and see.

He accordingly left the window and made all haste to his uncle’s door.  He knocked.  His uncle said, “Come in.”  Rollo opened the door.  His uncle was standing by the window of his room, looking out.  This was on the front side of the hotel.

“Uncle George!” said Rollo, “Uncle George!  Come and look out with me at the back window.  There is a flock of sheep feeding in a green field away up in the sky!”

“Come and look here!” said Mr. George.

So Rollo went to the window where Mr. George was standing, and his astonishment at what he saw was even greater than before.  The clouds had separated into great fleecy masses and were slowly drifting away, while through the openings that appeared in them there were seen bright and beautiful views of groves, green pasturages, smiling little hamlets and villages, green fields, and here and there dark forests of evergreen trees, with peaks of rocks or steep precipices peeping out among them.  At one place, through an opening or gap in the nearer mountains, there could be seen far back towards the horizon the broad sides and towering peak of a distant summit, which seemed to be wholly formed of vast masses of ice and snow, and which glittered with an inexpressible brilliancy under the rays of the morning sun.

“That is the Jungfrau," said Mr. George.

“That great icy mountain?” said Rollo.

“Yes,” said Mr. George.

“Can we get up to the top of it?” asked Rollo.

“No,” said Mr. George.  “People tried for more than a thousand years to get to the top of the Jungfrau before they could succeed.”

“And did they succeed at last?” asked Rollo.

“Yes,” replied Mr. George.  “You see there is a sort of goatlike animal, called the chamois, which the peasants and mountaineers are very fond of hunting.  These animals are great climbers, and they get up among the highest peaks and into the most dangerous places; and the hunters, in going into such places after them, become at last very expert in climbing, and sometimes they become ambitious of surpassing each other, and each one wishes to see how high he can get.  So one time, about twenty-five years ago, a party of six of these hunters undertook to get to the top of the Jungfrau, and at last they succeeded.  But it was a dreadfully difficult and dangerous operation.  It was fifteen miles’ steep climbing.”

“Not steep climbing all the way,” said Rollo.

“No,” said Mr. George, “I suppose not all the way.  There must have been some up-and-down work, and some perhaps tolerably level, for the first ten miles; but the last five must have been a perpetual scramble among rocks and ice and over vast drifts of snow, with immense avalanches thundering down the mountain sides all around them.”

“I wish I could go and see them,” said Rollo.

“You can go,” replied Mr. George.  “There is a most excellent chance to see the face of the Jungfrau very near; for there is another mountain this side of it, with a narrow valley between.  This other mountain is called the Wengern Alp.  It is about two thirds the height of the Jungfrau, and is so near it that from the top of it, or near the top, you can see the whole side of the Jungfrau rising right before you and filling half the sky, and you can see and hear the avalanches thundering down the sides of it all day long.”

Rollo was quite excited at this account, and was very eager to set off as soon as possible to go up the Wengern Alp.

“How do we get there?” asked he.

“You see this great gap in the near mountains,” said Mr. George, pointing.

“Yes,” said Rollo.

“That gap,” continued Mr. George, “is the mouth of a valley.  I have been studying it out this morning in my guide book.  There is a good carriage road leading up this valley.  It is called the valley of the Luetschine, because that is the name of the river which comes down through it.  In going up this valley for the first two or three miles we are going directly towards the Jungfrau.”

“Yes,” said Rollo.  “That I can see very plainly.”

This was indeed very obvious; for the Jungfrau, from the windows of the hotel, was seen through the great gap in the near mountains which Mr. George had pointed out as the mouth of the valley of the Luetschine.  In fact, had it not been for that gap in the near mountains, the great snow-covered summit could not have been seen from the hotels at all.

“We go up that valley,” continued Mr. George, “about three miles, and then we come to a fork in it; that is, to a place where the valley divides into two branches, one turning off to the right and the other to the left.  Directly ahead there is an enormous precipice, I don’t know how many thousand feet high, of bare rock.

“One of these branch valleys,” continued Mr. George, “leads up to one side of the Wengern Alp and the Jungfrau, and the other to the other side.  We may take the right-hand valley and go up five or six miles to Lauterbrunnen, or we may take the left-hand branch and go up to Grindelwald.  Which way do you think we had better go?”

“I do not know,” said Rollo.  “Can we get up to the Wengern Alp from either valley?”

“Yes,” said Mr. George.  “We can go up from one of these valleys, and then, after stopping as long as we choose on the Alp, we can continue our journey and so come down into the other, and thus see them both.  One of the valleys is famous for two great glaciers that descend into it.  The other is famous for immense waterfalls that come down over the precipices at the sides.”

“Let us go first and see the waterfalls,” said Rollo.

“Well,” said Mr. George, “we will.  We shall have to turn to the right in that case and go to Lauterbrunnen.  When we get to Lauterbrunnen we shall have to leave our carriage and take horses to go up to the Wengern Alp.  The way is by a steep path, formed in zigzags, right up the sides of the mountains.”

“How far is it?” asked Rollo.

“I don’t know precisely,” said Mr. George; “but it is a good many miles.  It takes, at any rate, several hours to go up.  We can stop at the Wengern Alp as long as we please and look at the Jungfrau and the avalanches, and after that go on down into the valley of Grindelwald on the other side, and so come home.”

“But how can we get our carriage?” asked Rollo.

“O, they send the carriage back, I believe,” said Mr. George, “from Lauterbrunnen to the great precipice at the fork of the valley.”

Mr. George, having thus finished his account of the topography of the route to the Wengern Alp, went away from the window and returned to the table where he had been employed in writing some letters just before Rollo had come in.  Rollo was left at the window.  He leaned his arms upon the sill, and, looking down to the area below, amused himself with observing what was going on there.

There were several persons standing or sitting upon the piazza.  Presently he heard the sound of wheels.  A carriage came driving up towards the door.  A postilion was riding upon one of the horses.  There were two servants sitting on the box; and there was a seat behind, where another servant and the lady’s maid were sitting.  The carriage stopped, the door was opened, and a lady and gentleman with two boys, all dressed like travellers, got out, and were ushered into the house with great civility by the landlord.  The baggage was taken off and carried in, and then the carriage was driven away round the corner.

This was an English nobleman and his family, who were making the tour of Switzerland, and were going to spend a few days at Interlachen on the way.

As soon as the bustle produced by this arrival had subsided, Rollo’s attention was attracted by a very sweet musical sound which seemed to be produced by something coming along the road.

“What can that be, I wonder?” said he to himself.

Then in a little louder tone, but without turning round, ­

“Uncle George, here is some music coming.  What do you think it is?”

Mr. George paused a moment to listen, and then went on with his writing.

The mystery was soon solved; for, in a few moments after Rollo had spoken, he saw a large flock of goats coming along.  These goats all had bells upon their necks, ­or at least a great many of them were so provided, ­and these bells, having a soft and sweet tone, produced, when their sounds were blended together, an enchanting harmony.  The goats walked demurely along, driven by one or two goatherds who were following them, and soon disappeared behind the trees and shrubbery.  Very soon after their forms had disappeared from view the music of their bells began to grow fainter and fainter until it ceased to be heard.

“It was a flock of goats going by,” said Rollo.

Rollo next heard voices; and, turning in the direction whence the sounds proceeded, he saw a party of young men coming up towards the door of the hotel along the gravelled avenue.  This was a party of German students making the tour of Switzerland on foot.  They had knapsacks on their backs, and stout walking sticks and guide books in their hands.  They came up talking and laughing together, full of hilarity and glee; and yet some of them seemed very tired.  They had walked six miles that morning, and were now going to stop at this hotel for breakfast.  Rollo listened to their conversation; but, as it was in the German language, he could not understand one word that they were saying.

“Dear me!” said he; “I wish that every body would talk either French or English.”

As soon as the students had passed on into the inn Rollo heard another carriage coming.  He looked and found that it was a char a banc.  A char a banc is a small, one-horse carriage, which looks upon the outside very much like what is called a carryall in America, only it is much narrower.  It differs very much, however, from a carryall within; for it has only a seat for two persons, and that is placed sideways, with the end to the horses.  You ride in it, therefore, sideways, as you do in an omnibus, only in an omnibus there are two seats, one on each side, and the door is at the end; whereas in the char a banc there is a seat only on one side, and the door is opposite to it on the other.  The seat is large and comfortable, being very much like a short sofa.  Some people, therefore, describe a char a banc as a sofa placed endwise on wheels.

The char a banc stopped before the door of the hotel; and the coachman, getting down from his seat in front, opened the door.  A very dignified-looking gentleman stepped out; and, after standing a moment on the piazza to give some directions about his portmanteau, he went into the office of the hotel.

Rollo, looking down from the window of his uncle George’s room, could see all these things very plainly; for the roof which protected the piazza from the rain was up at the top of the hotel, and therefore did not interfere with his view.

After having made the above-described observations from the window, Rollo began to think that he would like to go down below to the door, where he thought he could see what was going on to better advantage.

“Uncle George,” said he, “when are you going down to breakfast?”

“In about half an hour,” said Mr. George.  “I have got another letter to write.”

“Then I believe I will go down now,” said Rollo, “and wait there till you come.”

“Very well,” said Mr. George; “and please order breakfast, and then it will be all ready when I get my letter finished.”

“What shall I order?” asked Rollo.

“I don’t know,” said Mr. George.  “I don’t know what it is the fashion to have for breakfast here.  Ask them what they have got, and then choose for yourself and me.”

So Rollo, putting on his cap, went down stairs.

He stood for a little time on the piazza, looking at the strange dresses of the people that were sitting or standing there and listening to the outlandish sounds of the foreign languages which they were speaking.  At a little distance out upon the gravel walk, near the shrubbery, were a party of guides waiting to be hired for mountain excursions.  Some of these guides were talking with travellers, forming plans, or agreeing upon the terms on which they were to serve.  Rollo, after observing these groups a little time, walked along the piazza towards a place where he saw an open door in another large building, which, being connected with the piazza, evidently belonged to the hotel.  In fact, it was a sort of wing.  As there were people going in and out at this door, Rollo thought that he could go in too.

He accordingly walked along in that direction.  Before he reached the door he came to a place which, though open to the air, was covered with a roof, and was so enclosed by the buildings on three sides as to make quite a pleasant little nook.  It was ornamented by various shrubs and flowers which grew from tubs and large pots arranged against the sides of it.  There were several tables in this space, with chairs around them, and one or two parties of young men were taking their breakfast here.

“This will be a good place for uncle George and me to have our breakfast,” said Rollo to himself, “and we can see the Jungfrau all the time while we are eating it.”

Rollo then went on into the open door.  He found himself ushered into a very large and beautiful drawing room.  There were a great many sofas arranged around the sides of it, on which parties of ladies and gentlemen were sitting talking together; while other gentlemen, their hats in their hands, were standing before them or walking about the floor.  There was no carpet; but the floor was formed of dark wood highly polished, and was very beautiful.  There was a fireplace in one corner of this room; but there was no fire in it.  No fire was necessary; for it was a warm and pleasant morning.

On the front side of the room was a row of windows looking out towards the road.  On the back side was a door opening to another large room, where Rollo saw a table spread and several people sitting at it eating their breakfast.

“Ah,” said Rollo, “there is the dining room!  I will go in there and see what we can have for breakfast.”

So he walked through the drawing room and entered the room beyond.  He found that this inner room was quite a spacious apartment; and there were one or two long tables extending the whole length of it.

There were various separate parties sitting at these tables taking breakfast.  Some were just beginning.  Some had just ended.  Some were waiting for their breakfast to be brought in.  Near where Rollo was standing two gentlemen were seated at the table, with a map of Switzerland spread before them; and, instead of being occupied with breakfast, they were planning some excursion for the day.

Rollo looked out a vacant place at the table and took his seat.  A waiter came to him to know what he would have.

“I want breakfast for two,” said Rollo, “my uncle and myself.  What have you got for us?”

The waiter repeated a long list of very nice things that he could give Rollo and his uncle for breakfast.  From among these Rollo chose a beef steak, some hot rolls and butter, some honey, and some coffee.  The waiter went out to prepare them.

In about ten minutes Mr. George came down.  He took his seat by the side of Rollo; and very soon afterwards the waiter brought in what had been ordered.  Rollo liked the breakfast very much, especially the honey.

It is very customary to have honey for breakfast in Switzerland.