Part 8 (1/2)

”And how high must we go up in Switzerland?” asked Rollo.

”About eight or nine thousand feet, I believe,” said Mr. George. ”Some of the Alpine summits are sixteen thousand feet high; and so the ice and snow lie upon the upper portions of them all the time.”

The young gentlemen remained some time longer in the pavilion, gazing upon the stupendous scenery around them, and looking down the lake which lay before them in the bottom of a deep and narrow valley and extended in among the mountains much farther than they could see.

”We are going along that lake,” said Rollo ”are we not?”

”Yes,” said Mr. George; ”it is the Lake of Thun.”

”We are going in one of the steamboats that are lying at the pier, are we not?” said Rollo.

”Yes,” said Mr. George; ”unless you would prefer going along the sh.o.r.e.”

”Is there a road along the sh.o.r.e?” asked Rollo.

”Yes,” said Mr. George; ”there are two, I believe, one on each side of the lake. These roads run along at the foot of the mountains, far enough, however, above the level of the lake to enable us to enjoy excellent views of it. But we cannot see the mountains from it as well as we can from the lake itself.”

”Then,” said Rollo, ”if we go by the road we can see the lake best; and if we go by the steamboat we can see the mountains best.”

”Yes,” said Mr. George; ”that is the state of the case, exactly.”

”Then I think we had better go by the boat,” said Rollo; ”for I would rather see the mountains.”

”So would I,” rejoined Mr. George. ”Besides, there will be plenty of occasions on which we shall be obliged to go by land; therefore we had better go by water when we can, in order to have a variety. And, if we are going in the steamer, we must go back to the hotel; for it is almost time for the steamer to sail.”

So Mr. George led the way, and Rollo followed, down the path by which they had come up. As they thus walked down they continued the conversation which they had commenced in the pavilion.

”What shall we come to when we get to the end of the lake?” asked Rollo.

”Does the lake reach to the end of the valley?”

”No,” said Mr. George. ”The valley is about fifty miles long, I suppose, and this lake is only about fifteen miles long; but there is another in the same valley a little farther on. The valley is the valley of the Aar. That is the name of the stream which flows through it. It is one of the most remarkable valleys in Switzerland. I have been studying it in the guide book and on the map. It is about fifty miles long, and it winds in a serpentine manner between two lofty ranges of mountains, so steep and high that it is not possible to make any road over them.”

”None at all?” asked Rollo.

”No,” replied Mr. George. ”They cannot make any road--nothing but bridle paths. The mountains, too, that border the valley along the sides close across at the head of it; so that if you go up the valley at all you cannot get out of it without climbing over the mountains; unless, indeed, you are willing to come back the same way that you went.”

”I would rather climb over the mountains,” said Rollo.

”So would I,” said Mr. George. ”The beginning of this valley,” continued Mr. George ”is in the very heart of the most mountainous part of Switzerland, and the River Aar commences there in prodigious cascades and waterfalls, which come down over the cliffs and precipices or gush out from enormous crevices and chasms, and make quite a river at the very beginning.”

”Can we go there and see them?” said Rollo.

”Yes,” replied Mr. George; ”I mean to go and see them. The place is called Meyringen. The cascades and waterfalls at Meyringen are wonderful. One of them, the guide book says, makes dreadful work in times of flood. It comes out from a great chasm in the rocks in the face of a precipice at a vast height from the ground; and, in times of flood, it brings down such a ma.s.s of sand, gravel, stones, rubbish, and black mud as sometimes to threaten to overwhelm the village.”

”Is there a village there?” asked Rollo.

”Yes,” said Mr. George; ”the village of Meyringen. This waterfall comes down out of the mountain just back of the village; and they have had to build up an immense wall, a quarter of a mile long and twenty or thirty feet high, to keep the torrent of mud and sand out of the streets. Once it broke through and filled up the church four feet deep all over the floor with mud, and gravel, and stones. Some of the stones were bigger than your head.”