OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 469 



possibly with contempt for the man who could refer to 

 such a thing as difficult. The language of my journal 

 regarding it, however, is, " By the Lord, I should not 

 like to repeat this ascent ! " I found the signal poles 

 and reached the Grimsel. Old Zybach and his fine 

 daughters were still there. He had not yet, by setting 

 fire to the house, which belonged to the commune, con- 

 demned himself to the life of a felon. 



That night I slept at Gutannen, and next day halted 

 on the Great Scheideck. Heavy rain fell as I ascended, 

 but the thick pines provided shelter. Vapours leaped 

 from the clefts of the mountains, and thunder rattled 

 upon the heights. At every crash I looked instinctively 

 upwards, expecting to see the rocks sent down in splin- 

 ters. On the following day I crossed the Wengern Alp, 

 saw the avalanches of the Jungfrau, and heard the 

 warble of her echoes. Then swiftly down to Lauterbrun- 

 nen, and through the valley of Interlaken, with hardly a 

 hope of being able to reach Xeuhaus in time to catch the 

 steamer. I had been told over and over again that it 

 was hopeless, but I thought it a duty to try. The pad- 

 dles were turning, and a considerable distance already 

 separated the steamer and the quay when I arrived. 

 This distance was cleared at a bound, under a protest 

 on the part of the captain and the bystanders, and that 

 night I bivouacked at Thun. 



On the following day I drove to Berne, and walked 

 thence through Solothurm to Basel. The distant aspect 

 of the Alps appeared to be far more glorious than the 

 nearer view. From a distance the Vormauer, or spurs, 

 and the highest crests were projected against a com- 

 mon background, the apparent height of the mountains 

 being thereby enormously augmented. The aqueous 

 air had also something to do with their wonderful 

 illumination. The railway station being then at Effrin- 



