But the Glarner, pleading for his community, said: “Neighbour, I pray thee, be so just as to grant me a bit of the fine pasture land thou hast acquired by good luck.”
At first the Urner would not consent, but as his antagonist continued to plead with gentle importunity, he finally exclaimed: “Well, friend, thou shalt have as much ground as thou canst carry me over!”
The overjoyed man from Glarus now picked up his opponent, and although the latter was heavy, and the road led up a steep hill, toiled valiantly onward until he sank down lifeless far up the slope. By his heroic efforts this man thus won a considerable piece of pasture land for his fellow-citizens, who, in grateful memory of his efforts in their behalf, buried him on the spot where he fell, and still speak of his feat of strength with wonder and admiration.
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The marvellous St. Gothard Railway, which cost ten years of persistent labour, crosses almost countless tunnels and bridges, and gives the traveller an opportunity to see some of the finest and wildest scenery in the world. At Altorf it passes the Capuchin Monastery, in connection with which the following story is told.
The monks, in olden times, lived on a very friendly footing with the people all around there, until one of them, meeting a pretty girl on a lonely path, declared he must have the bunch of Alpine flowers she wore on her breast, and a kiss besides. The peasant maiden, who had picked the flowers for her lover, and who was far from expecting such behaviour on the part of one of the monks, gave a loud shriek when he attempted to secure the bouquet and salute her by force.
At the same instant the ground shook, a wide crevice appeared, whence rose a cloud of smoke. Then a slip knot suddenly closed around the neck of the monk, who was dragged down into the abyss, which closed over him with an ominous crash! Since then, if we are to believe the chronicles, no monk from the Capuchin convent has ever dared raise his eyes to any of the girls of the town, or to exchange even a conventional greeting with them.
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One of the tunnels crossed by the railroad, is near a ravine which is known as the Pfaffensprung or the Monk’s Leap, and owes its name to the following legend. A wicked monk once kidnapped a young girl, and was fleeing with her through the mountains, when he suddenly discovered that he was pursued. To escape from his would-be captors, and retain possession of the girl he had carried off, this monk ran to the edge of the Reuss. There, seizing her in his arms, he took a desperate leap, and—helped by the Devil—landed safely on the other side! According to some versions of the story, the monk was none other than the Evil One himself, for it is claimed no one else could have leaped across a chasm which measures no less than twenty-two feet at this place.
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