Rollo in Switzerland

by Jacob Abbott

So Mr. George, with an air and manner which seemed to say, It is none of my concern, walked up a flight of steps which led to a sort of elevated porch or platform before the door of the inn.

For a moment Rollo himself was a little disconcerted, not knowing whether it would be safe for a man to go down a steep declivity with such a burden on his back; but when he reflected that this was the arrangement that the guide himself had proposed, and that the guide had, doubtless, done the same thing a hundred times before, he ceased to feel any uneasiness, and following Mr. George up the steps, he took a seat by his side, at a little table, which was placed there for the accommodation of travellers stopping at the inn to rest.

Rollo and his uncle spent half an hour at this hotel. For refreshment they had some very excellent and rich Alpine milk, which they drank from very tall and curiously-shaped tumblers. They also amused themselves in looking at some specimens of carved work, such as models of Swiss cottages—and figures of shepherds, and milkmaids with loads of utensils on their backs—and groups of huntsmen, with dogs leaping up around them—and chamois, or goats, climbing about among the rocks and mountains. Rollo had bought a pretty good supply of such sculptures before; but there was one specimen here that struck his fancy so much that he could not resist the temptation of adding it to his collection, especially as Mr. George approved of his making the purchase. It was a model of what is called a chalet,[15] which is a sort of hut that the shepherds occupy in the upper pasturages, in the summer, where they go to tend the cows, and to make butter and cheese. The little chalet was made in such a manner that the roof would lift up like a lid, and let you see all there was within. There was a row of cows, with little calves by them, in stalls on one side of the chalet, and on the other side tables and benches, with pans of milk and tubs upon them, and a churn, and a cheese press, and other such like things. There was a bed, too, for the shepherd, in a sort of a garret above, just big enough to hold it.

In about half an hour the guide seemed ready to proceed, and the whole party set out again on their journey. The guide went before, with the trunk and all the other baggage piled up on the rack behind him. He had a stout staff in his hand, which he used to prevent himself from falling, in going down the steep and rocky places. Some of these places were very steep and rocky indeed—so much so that going down them was a work of climbing rather than walking, and Rollo himself was sometimes almost afraid. What made these places the more frightful was, that the path in descending them was often exceedingly narrow, and was bordered, on one side, by a perpendicular wall of rock, and by an unfathomable abyss of rocks and roaring cataracts on the other. To behold the skill and dexterity with which the guide let himself down, from rock to rock, in this dreadful defile, loaded as he was, excited both in Mr. George and Rollo a continual sentiment of wonder.

At length the steepest part of the descent was accomplished, and then the road led, for a mile, through a green and pretty valley, with lofty rocks and mountains on either hand, and chalets and pretty cottages at various distances along the roadside. At one place, in a very romantic and delightful spot, they came to a small chapel. It had been built there to commemorate some remarkable event, and to afford a resting-place for travellers. The door of this chapel was fastened, but Rollo could look in through a window and see the altar, and the crucifix, and the tall candles, within. He and Mr. George sat down, too, on the stone step of the chapel for a little while, to rest, and to enjoy the view. While they were there another traveller came by, ascending from Lungern, and he stopped to rest there too. He was lame, and seemed to be poor. He had a pack on his back. Mr. George talked with this man in French while they sat together on the steps of the chapel, and when he went away Mr. George gave him a little money.

After leaving the chapel the travellers continued their descent, the valley opening before them more and more as they proceeded, until, at length, the village of Lungern came in sight, far below them, at the head of a little lake.

"There!" said Rollo, as soon as the village came in sight. "That is Lungern. That is the place where the carriage road begins."

"I am glad of that," said Mr. George. "A ride in a carriage will be very pleasant after all this scrambling over the mountains—that is, provided you get a good carriage."

When, at length, the party reached the inn, the guide set down his load on a bench at the door of it, and, smiling, seemed quite pleased to be rid of the heavy burden.

"Are we going to take dinner here?" said Mr. George to Rollo.