After gazing at this scenery for nearly an hour until his curiosity in respect to it was in some measure satisfied, Rollo began to turn his attention to his fellow-travellers on board the steamer. These travellers were seated singly or in groups about the deck of the little vessel, and they were all tourists, journeying for pleasure. Here was a small group of young men—students apparently—with knapsacks on their backs, spyglasses strapped to their sides, and maps and guide books in their hands. There was a young lady seated with her father, both dressed for the mountains, and gazing with curiosity and wonder on the views presented along the shores of the lake. In another place was a family of parents and children—the father studying a map which he had spread open upon his knees, the mother sitting by his side, silent and thoughtful, as if her mind was far away, dwelling, perhaps, upon the little ones which had been left at home because they were too young to be taken on such a tour. Some of these people were talking French, some English, and some German. Rollo looked about upon these various groups for a time, and then said,—
"Are all these travellers going to see the mountains, do you suppose, uncle George?"
"Yes," said Mr. George; "I suppose so. There is very little travelling in Switzerland except pleasure travelling. I presume they are all going to see the mountains and the other scenery of the country."
"I should not think that the ladies could climb up the mountains very high," said Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George, "they can; for in almost all places where people wish to go there are excellent paths. Where it is too steep for roads the mountaineers make zigzag paths, not only for travellers, but for themselves, in order that they may go up and down to their chalets and pasturages. The people of the country have been making and improving these paths now for two thousand years or more, and they have got them at last in very excellent condition; so that, except the steepness, they are very easy and very comfortable."
"Why, uncle George," said Rollo, "look!"
So saying, Rollo pointed his finger out over the water. The mountains had suddenly and entirely disappeared. The vapors and clouds which they had seen floating among them half an hour before had become dense and continuous, and had, moreover, settled down over the whole face of the country in such a manner as to shut out the mountains wholly from view. Nothing was to be seen but the water of the lake, with a margin of low and level but beautiful country along the shores of it.
In fact, there was nothing but the smallness of the steamer and the costumes and character of the passengers to prevent Rollo and Mr. George from supposing that they were steaming it from New York to Albany, up the North River, in America.
