“Yes,” cried the fairy’s voice, “the rock is raining, and unless the baron of Chaulin breaks his word for the first time in his life, you young people can now marry without further delay.”
Awed by this phenomenon, or too honourable to disregard his oath, the baron not only consented to the young people’s union, but gave them such a grand wedding that all Montreux feasted and danced for a whole week.
Since then, water has constantly trickled from the overhanging Raining Rock, down on the moss and the shiny-leaved water plants beneath it; and the delicate fronds of the ferns, growing in every cranny, perpetually rise and fall with dainty grace as the huge drops fall down upon them, and glancing off, slowly roll from stone to stone until they find their way into the Lake of Geneva.
* * * * *
North of Clarens, on the boundary of the cantons of Vaud and Fribourg, is the mighty Dent de Jaman, which can best be crossed by means of the “col,” or pass, of the same name.
A peasant who had never left his native valley in the southern part of the canton of Fribourg, once decided that it might be well to see a little of the world, and after talking a long while of his plans, he bade his friends and relatives an impressive farewell and set out. Armed with his mountain staff, he slowly climbed the rough path leading to the Col de Jaman. Tramping sturdily on, he soon came to the boundary line between his own canton and that of Vaud. Never yet had he ventured so far from home, and everything seemed so strange that he kept looking around and behind him, marvelling at the view, which grew more and more extended with every step.
As it was one of those bright days when every object is perceptible for miles around, there was plenty to see, and as he had never travelled, he was quite unprepared for the sight which greeted his eyes when he reached the top of the pass. He therefore stood still there, in open-mouthed wonder, his gaze fixed upon the wonderful Lake of Geneva, whose waters were of the exact tint of the sky overhead.
After staring thus for some time, the sturdy peasant heaved a great sigh, turned slowly on his hobnailed heel, and wended his way home again, along the very path which he had just trod.
When he reached his native village once more, the people all crowded around him, asking why he had come back so soon, and what had induced him to give up his long-cherished plan to see the world on the other side of the mountain?
The peasant, whose intellect was none of the keenest, listened stolidly to all their questions, then, scratching his curly head, slowly explained that on reaching the top of the pass he had discovered it would be useless and rather unsafe to venture any farther, as a big piece of the sky had just dropped down into the valley on the other side of the mountain!