"Let's go in one of those," said Rollo, straightening himself up.
"Sometimes the path becomes narrower and narrower," continued Mr. George, "until it is finally lost among the rocks, and you have to clamber around the point of some rocky cliff a thousand feet in the air, with scarcely any thing but the jagged roughness of the rocks to cling to."
"Yes, sir," said Rollo, eagerly. "Yes, sir. Let's go there. That's just the kind of road I want to go in."
"Well, we'll see," said Mr. George. "The first thing is to go to Interlachen. That is in the heart of the mountains, and very near the passes which lead over into the valley. When we get there we will study the guide book and the maps and determine which way to go."
"And after you get into the valley," said Rollo, "shall you go across it, and go over the mountains on the other side, into Italy?"
"I don't know," said Mr. George. "Perhaps we shall not have time. I may think it is best to spend the time in rambling about among the mountains and glaciers near the head of the valley, where I believe is to be found the most stupendous scenery in all Switzerland."
The breakfast was now nearly finished, though the process of eating it had been a good deal impeded by the conversation, so large a share of it having fallen to Mr. George. Mr. George, however, explained to Rollo that their first day's journey from Basle would be south, towards Berne, the capital of the country—a city which was situated near the centre of the northern slope which Mr. George had described.
"Do we go by a railway?" asked Rollo.
"No," said Mr. George; "by a diligence."