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 Grrimsel. 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 Grutannen,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 splinters. 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 Lauterbrunnen, and 

 through the valley of Interlaken, with hardly a hope 

 of being able to reach Neuhaus 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 

 paddles 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- 



