“Come, uncle George,” said Rollo, “make haste.  We are all ready.”

Rollo was sitting in a char a banc when he said this, at the door of the hotel.  He and his uncle were going to make an excursion up the valley of the Luetschine to Lauterbrunnen, and thence to ascend the Wengern Alp, in order to see the avalanches of the Jungfrau; and Rollo was in haste to set out.

“Come, uncle George,” said he, “make haste.”

Mr. George was coming out of the hotel slowly, talking with the landlord.

“The guide will take you to Lauterbrunnen,” said the landlord, “in the char a banc; and then he will send the char a banc back down the valley to the fork, and thence up to Grindelwald to wait for you there.  You will go up to the Wengern Alp from Lauterbrunnen; and then, after staying there as long as you please, you will keep on and come down to Grindelwald on the other side, where you will find the carriage ready for you. But it seems to me that you had better take another horse.”

“No,” said Mr. George.  “One will do very well.”

Mr. George had a carpet bag in his hand.  It contained nightdresses, to be used in case he and Rollo should conclude to spend the night on the mountain.  He put the carpet bag into the carriage, and then got in himself.  The landlord shut the door, and the coachman drove away.  Thus they set out on their excursion.

This excursion to the Wengern Alp was only one of many similar expeditions which Rollo and Mr. George made together while they were in Switzerland.  As, however, it is manifestly impossible to describe the whole of Switzerland in so small a volume as this, I shall give a narrative of the ascent of the Wengern Alp as a sort of specimen of these excursions.  I think it better that I should give a minute and particular account of one than a more vague and general, and so less satisfactory, account of several of them.

Rollo had taken the precaution to have the curtains of the char a banc rolled up, so that he and Mr. George could see out freely on all sides of them as they rode along.

The view which was first presented to their observation was that of the lawns and gardens in the midst of which the hotels were situated.  These grounds were connected together by walks ­some straight, others winding ­which passed through bowers and gateways from one enclosure to the other.  In these walks various parties were strolling; some were gathering flowers, others were gazing at the mountains around, and others still were moving quietly along, going from one hotel to another for the purpose of taking a pleasant morning walk or to make visits to their friends.  The whole scene was a bright and very animated one; but Rollo had not time to observe it long; for the char a banc, after moving by a graceful sweep around a copse of shrubbery, passed out through a great gateway in the road, and the hotels and all that pertained to them were soon hidden from view by the great trees which grew along the roadside before them.

The coachman, or rather the guide, ­for the man who was driving the char a banc was the one who was to act as guide up the mountain when they reached Lauterbrunnen, ­turned soon into a road which led off towards the gap, or opening, in the nearer mountains which Mr. George and Rollo had seen from the windows of the hotel.  The road was very smooth and level, and the two travellers, as they rode along, had a fine view of the fields, the hamlets, and the scattered cottages which bordered the road on the side to which their faces were turned.

“This char a banc,” said Rollo, “is an excellent carriage for seeing the prospect on one side of the road.”

“Yes,” said Mr. George; “but there might be the most astonishing spectacle in Switzerland on the other side without our knowing any thing about it unless we turned round expressly to see.”

So saying, Mr. George turned in his seat and looked at that side of the road which had been behind them.  There was a field there, and a young girl about seventeen years old ­with a very broad-brimmed straw hat upon her head, and wearing a very picturesque costume in other respects ­was seen digging up the ground with a hoe.

The blade of the hoe was long, and it seemed very heavy.  The girl was digging up the ground by standing upon the part which she had already dug and striking the hoe down into the hard ground a few inches back from where she had struck before.

“Do the women work in the fields every where in Switzerland, Henry?” said Mr. George.

The guide’s name was Henry.  He could not speak English, but he spoke French and German.  Mr. George addressed him in French.

“Yes, sir,” said Henry; “in every part of Switzerland where I have been.”

“In America the women never work in the fields,” said Mr. George.

“Never?” asked Henry, surprised.

“No,” said Mr. George; “at least, I never saw any.”

“What do they do, then,” asked Henry, “to spend their time?”

Mr. George laughed.  He told Rollo, in English, that he did not think he had any satisfactory answer at hand in respect to the manner in which the American ladies spent their time.

“I pity that poor girl,” said Rollo, “hoeing all day on such hard ground.  I think the men ought to do such work as that.”

“The men have harder work to do,” said Mr. George; “climbing the mountains to hunt chamois, or driving the sheep and cows up to the upper pasturages in places where it would be very difficult for women to go.”

“We must turn round every now and then,” said Rollo, “and see what is behind us, or we may lose the sight of something very extraordinary.”

“Yes,” said Mr. George; “I heard of a party of English ladies who once went out in a char a banc to see a lake.  It happened that when they came to the lake the road led along the shore in such a manner that the party, as they sat in the carriage, had their backs to the water.  So they rode along, looking at the scenery on the land side and wondering why they did not come to the lake.  In this manner they continued until they had gone entirely around the lake; and then the coachman drove them home.  When they arrived at the hotel they were astonished to find that they had got home again; and they called out to the coachman to ask where the lake was that they had driven out to see.  He told them that he had driven them all round it!”

Rollo laughed heartily at this story, and Henry would probably have laughed too if he had understood it; but, as Mr. George related it in English, Henry did not comprehend one word of the narration from beginning to end.

In the mean time the horse trotted rapidly onward along the valley, which seemed to grow narrower and narrower as they proceeded; and the impending precipices which here and there overhung the road became more and more terrific.  The Luetschine, a rapid and turbid stream, swept swiftly along ­sometimes in full view and sometimes concealed.  Now and then there was a bridge, or a mill, or some little hamlet of Swiss cottages to diversify the scene.  Mr. George and Rollo observed every thing with great attention and interest.  They met frequent parties of travellers returning from Grindelwald to Lauterbrunnen ­some on foot, some on horseback, and others in carriages which were more or less spacious and elegant, according to the rank or wealth of the travellers who were journeying in them.

At length they arrived at the fork of the valley.  Here they gazed with astonishment and awe at the stupendous precipice which reared its colossal front before them and which seemed effectually to stop their way.

On drawing near to it, however, it appeared that the valley divided into two branches at this point, as has already been explained.  The road divided too.  The branch which led to the right was the road to Lauterbrunnen.  The one to the left Rollo supposed led to Grindelwald.  To make it sure, he pointed to the left-hand road and said to Henry, ­

“To Grindelwald?”

“Yes, sir,” said Henry, “to Grindelwald.”

The scenery now became more wild than ever.  The valley was narrow, and on each side of it were to be seen lofty precipices and vast slopes of mountain land ­some smooth and green, and covered, though very steep, with flocks and herds, and others feathered with dark evergreen forests, or covered with ragged rocks, or pierced with frightful chasms.  Here and there a zigzag path was seen leading from hamlet to hamlet or from peak to peak up the mountain, with peasants ascending or descending by them and bearing burdens of every form and variety on their backs.  In one case Rollo saw a woman bringing a load of hay on her back down the mountain side.

The valley, bordered thus as it was with such wild and precipitous mountain sides, might have had a gloomy, or at least a very sombre, expression, had it not been cheered and animated by the waterfalls that came foaming down here and there from the precipices above, and which seemed so bright and sparkling that they greatly enlivened the scene.  These waterfalls were of a great variety of forms.  In some cases a thin thread of water, like the jet from a fire engine, came slowly over the brink of a precipice a thousand feet in the air, and, gliding smoothly down for a few hundred feet, was then lost entirely in vapor or spray.  In other cases, in the depth of some deep ravine far up the mountain, might be seen a line of foam meandering for a short distance among the rocks and then disappearing.  Rollo pointed to one of these, and then said to Mr. George, ­

“Uncle, look there!  There is a short waterfall half way up the mountain; but I cannot see where the water comes from or where it goes to.”

“No,” said Mr. George.  “It comes undoubtedly from over the precipice above, and it flows entirely down into the valley; but it only comes out to view for that short distance.”

“Why can’t we see it all the way?” asked Rollo.

“I suppose,” said Mr. George, “it may flow for the rest of the way in the bottom of some deep chasms, or it may possibly be that it comes suddenly out of the ground at the place where we see it.”

“Yes,” said Rollo.  “I found a great stream coming suddenly out of the ground at Interlachen.”

“Where,” asked Mr. George.

“Right across the river,” said Rollo.  “I went over there this morning.”

“How did you get over?” said Mr. George.

“I went over on a bridge,” said Rollo.  “I took a little walk up the road, and pretty soon I came to a bridge which led across the river.  I went over, and then walked along the bank on the other side.  There was only a narrow space between the river and the precipice.  The ground sloped down from the foot of the precipice to the water.  I found several very large springs breaking out in this ground.  One of them was very large.  The water that ran from it made a great stream, large enough for a mill.  It came up right out of the ground from a great hole all full of stones.  The water came up from among the stones.”

“And where did it go to?” asked Mr. George.

“O, it ran directly down into the river.  The place was rather steep where it ran down, so that it made a cascade all the way.”

“I should like to have seen it,” said Mr. George.

“Yes,” said Rollo; “it was very curious indeed to see a little river come up suddenly out of the ground from a great hole full of stones.”

Talking in this manner about what they had seen, our travellers went on till they came to Lauterbrunnen.  They found a small village here, in the midst of which was a large and comfortable inn.  There were a number of guides and several carriages in the yards of this inn, and many parties of travellers coming and going.  The principal attraction of the valley, however, at this part of it, is an immense waterfall, called the Fall of the Staubach, which was to be seen a little beyond the village, up the valley.  This is one of the most remarkable waterfalls in all Switzerland.  A large stream comes over the brink of a precipice nearly a thousand feet high, and descends in one smooth and continuous column for some hundreds of feet, when it gradually breaks, and finally comes down upon the rocks below a vast mass of foam and spray.

Rollo and Mr. George could see this waterfall and a great many other smaller ones which came streaming down over the faces of the precipices, along the sides of the valley, as they came up in the char a banc, before they reached the inn.

“I don’t see how such a large river gets to the top of such a high hill,” said Rollo.

That this question should have arisen in Rollo’s mind is not surprising; for the top of the precipice where the Staubach came over seemed, in fact, the summit of a sharp ridge to any one looking up to it from the valley below; and Rollo did not imagine that there was any land above.  The apparent wonder was, however, afterwards explained, when our travellers began to ascend the mountain on the other side of the valley that afternoon to go up to the Wengern Alp.

The guide drove the char a banc to the door of the inn, and Mr. George and Rollo got out.  They went into the inn and ordered dinner.

“We are going to see the Staubach,” said Mr. George to the waiter, “and we will be back in half an hour.”

“Very well,” said the waiter; “your dinner shall be ready.”

So Mr. George and Rollo came out of the inn again in order to go and see the waterfall.

They were beset at the door by a number of young men and boys, and also by several little girls, some of whom wanted to sell them minerals or flowers which they had gathered among the rocks around the waterfall; and others wished to guide them to the place.

“To the Staubach?  To the Staubach?” said they.  “Want a guide?  Want a guide?”

They said this in the German language.  Mr. George understood enough of German to know what they meant; but he could not reply in that language.  So he said, in French, ­

“No; we do not wish any guide.  We can find the way to the Staubach ourselves.  There it is, right before our eyes.”

Mr. George, while he was saying this, was taking out some small change from his pockets to give to the children.  He gave a small coin apiece to them all.

Seeing this, the boys who had wished to guide him to the Staubach became more clamorous than ever.

“To the Staubach?” said they.  “To the Staubach?  Want a guide?  Want a guide?”

Mr. George paid no further attention to them; but, saying “Come, Rollo,” walked on.

The would-be guides followed him a short distance, still offering their services; but, finding soon that Mr. George would not have any thing more to say to them, they gradually dropped off and went back to the inn to try their fortune with the next arrival.

Mr. George and Rollo walked on along a narrow road, which was bordered by queer, picturesque-looking huts and cottages on either hand, with gardens by the sides of them, in which women and girls were hoeing or weeding.  They met two or three parties of ladies and gentlemen returning from the Staubach; and presently they came to a place where, close to the side of the road, was a small shop, before which a party of ladies and gentlemen had stopped, apparently to look at something curious.

Mr. George and Rollo went to the place and found that it was a shop for the sale of carved toys and images such as are made in many parts of Switzerland to be sold to travellers for souvenirs of their tour through the country.  There were shelves put up on the outside of the shop, each side of the door, and these shelves were covered with all sorts of curious objects carved in white or yellow fir, or pine.  There were images of Swiss peasants with all sorts of burdens on their backs, and models of Swiss cottages, and needle boxes, and pin cases, and match boxes, and nut crackers, and groups of hunters on the rocks, or of goats or chamois climbing, and rulers ornamented with cameo-like carvings of wreaths and flowers, and with the word “Staubach” cut in ornamental letters.

Rollo was greatly interested in this store of curiosities, so much so, in fact, that for the moment all thoughts of the Staubach were driven from his mind.

“Let us buy some of these things, uncle George,” said he.

“And carry them over the Wengern Alp?” said Mr. George.

“Yes,” said Rollo.  “They won’t be very heavy.  We can put them in the carpet bag.”

“Well,” said Mr. George, “you may buy one or two specimens if you wish, but not many; for the guide has got the carpet bag to carry, and we must not make it very heavy.”

“Or we can send them in the carriage round to Grindelwald,” said Rollo, “and not have to carry them at all.”

“So we can,” said Mr. George.

Rollo accordingly bought two Swiss cottages, very small ones, and a nut cracker.  The nut cracker was shaped like a man’s fist, with a hole in the middle of it to put the nut in.  Then there was a handle, the end of which, when the handle was turned, was forced into the hollow of the fist by means of a screw cut in the wood, and this would crack the nut.

While Rollo was paying for his toys he felt a small hand taking hold of his own, and heard a voice say, in English, ­

“How do you do?”

The English “How do you do?” is a strange sound to be heard in these remote Swiss valleys.

Rollo turned round and saw a boy look up to him with a smile, saying again at the same time, ­

“How do you do?”

In a moment Rollo recognized the boy whom he had seen at Basle in the court yard of the diligence office while he had been waiting there for the horses to be harnessed.  His sister Lottie was standing near; and she, as well as her brother, appeared to be much pleased at seeing Rollo again.  Rollo had a few minutes’ conversation with his young friends, and then they separated, as Rollo went on with his uncle to see the waterfall; while they, having already been with their father and mother to see it, went back to the inn.

Mr. George had recommended to Rollo not to buy too many specimens of the carving, not only on account of the difficulty of transporting them, but also because he thought that they would probably find a great many other opportunities to purchase such things before they had finished their rambles in Switzerland.  He was quite right in this supposition.  In fact, Rollo passed three more stands for selling such things on the way to the Staubach.

Mr. George and Rollo continued their walk along the road, looking up constantly at the colossal column of water before them, which seemed to grow larger and higher the nearer they drew to it.  At length they reached the part of the road which was directly opposite to it.  Here there was a path which turned off from the road and led up through the pasture towards the foot of the fall.  The entrance to this path was beset by children who had little boxes full of crystals and other shining minerals which they wished to sell to visitors for souvenirs of the place.

Mr. George and Rollo turned into this path and attempted to advance towards the foot of the fall; but they soon found themselves stopped by the spray.  In fact, the whole region all around the foot of the fall, for a great distance, was so full of mist and driving spray that going into it was like going into a rain storm.  Mr. George and Rollo soon found that they were getting thoroughly wet and that it would not do to go any farther.

“And so,” said Rollo, in a disappointed tone, “though we have taken the pains to come all this way to see the waterfall, we can’t get near enough to see it after all.”

Mr. George laughed.

“I wish we had brought an umbrella,” said Rollo.

“An umbrella would not have done much good,” replied Mr. George.  “The wind whirls about so much that it would drive the spray upon us whichever way we should turn the umbrella.”

“The path goes on a great deal nearer,” said Rollo.  “Somebody must go there, at any rate, without minding the spray.”

“Perhaps,” said Mr. George, “when the wind is in some other quarter, it may blow the spray away, so that people can go nearer the foot of the fall without getting wet.  At any rate, it is plain that we cannot go any nearer now.”

Saying these words, Mr. George led the way back towards the road, and Rollo followed him.

After retreating far enough to get again into a dry atmosphere, they stopped and looked upward at the fall.  It seemed an immense cataract coming down out of the sky.  After gazing at the stupendous spectacle till their wonder and admiration were in some measure satisfied, they returned to the inn, where they found an excellent dinner all ready for them.  While they were thus employed in eating their dinner, Henry was engaged in eating his, with at least as good an appetite, in company with the other guides, in the servants’ hall.