OUR first question, after greeting the Mother and the Babes, was, “Have you heard from the boys? Do you know where they are?” The Mother admitted that she had received a telegram from them at Leuk Susten the day before, requesting money, and a letter that morning, and that they would probably get home the next day.
They did, and the hatchet was buried, and we swapped yarns about our adventures. It seems that after we left them on the mountain-side, they decided it would be healthier for them not to return to the hotel till our wrath had had time to cool. So they went on to the Staffel Alp, got lost, and thought they would have to stay out all night, but finally found the path and arrived home, footsore and weary, long after dark. The pretty waitress handed them my letter and watched them read it, but I understand they betrayed no unbecoming emotion for her satisfaction. It seems that the claim of wealth they had made to us was a bluff. When it came to the point, they could muster only about eight francs between them! And then that unkind pretty waitress appeared with our wash clothes which she had succeeded in getting back from the laundress (we had arranged to have them sent after us by mail), and there was four francs to pay on them, and the poor lads had to fill up their knapsacks with Belle Soeur’s and my lingerie (that was the unkindest cut of all) and go forth into the cold world with only four francs between them.
They were too tired to go any distance. A mile or so out of Zermatt they encountered a haymow and slept in it. Next morning they breakfasted on dry bread and continued down the road to Visp, but not, I take it, at a very snappy gait. They found a few of our bulletins, including the one that told them when we were going to leave Visp, but they arrived at the station just too late to catch us there. If we had waited for the next train, as Belle Soeur suggested, what a beautiful and touching reunion we might have had! They had started down that hot Rhone valley about 3 P. M., still subsisting on dry bread, had tried short cuts and brought up in marshes and had to retrace their steps. Finally, they decided to give it up and lodged in another haymow. They found next morning that they were still some miles from Leuk Susten, so there was no chance of catching up with us. They therefore went to a good hotel, had a bath and a square meal on their expectations and used the last of their money to telegraph for funds. They got their reply the same afternoon, but resolved to recuperate till next morning and start fresh. So they passed over the Gemmi twenty-four hours behind us.
Apropos of Belle Soeur’s and my experiences by ourselves, I want to say that everything went just as smoothly and pleasantly as if we had had masculine escorts, and that so far as our example goes, there would seem to be no reason why two sensible women should not tramp over Switzerland by themselves if they feel like it. Still, I should hesitate to advise it from instances that later came under my observation of how objectionable the usually respectable Schweizer may become under the influence of liquor.
The day after the boys’ return was the Mother’s birthday, and we resolved to celebrate it by a picnic. But mark how soon bad habits become fixed! We could not get through the day without splitting up the party! The split, however, did not occur along the old line of cleavage, so perhaps, on the whole, it had a healing effect.
It happened thus: Belle Soeur was making a birthday cake to be produced at dinner, and Frater was making candy. The rest of us, therefore, got ready before they did, and as the Younger Babe was a slow walker, we started on ahead with him, the Mother, Antonio, Suzanne and I, carrying the eatables for luncheon. The Elder Babe waited for the cake and candy makers, who were to follow with the drinkables. We went to the Wetterhorn Blick—a very beautiful spot on the hillside, with trees and grass and, as the name indicates, a remarkably fine view of the Wetterhorn and Upper Glacier.
We waited and waited and waited until starvation forced us to begin eating. We went slowly at first, still hoping the belated ones would appear. But they didn’t, and our appetites had grown meanwhile, so we kept on till the last sandwich and crumb of cake disappeared. We hadn’t a drop of anything to drink, but fortunately we had oranges, which answered the purpose reasonably well.
When we went home to dress for dinner after a delightful day, we found the absentees comfortably installed there. They had gotten lost and couldn’t find us, so they went home and lunched by themselves. I don’t know what they ate, but they certainly had plenty to drink!
We thought we would make another try at a united birthday excursion for the Mother, and this time we really succeeded, although we again risked going in two sections! This was to be an excursion to the temporary terminus of the Jungfrau railroad then under construction. The Mother, the Elder Babe and the luncheon went up to the Kleine Scheidegg by train, while the pedestrian quartette walked up. We effected a junction without difficulty this time and all proceeded together afoot to the Eiger Glacier.
We led the Mother and the Babe right on to this glacier and sat them and ourselves down upon it for luncheon. There were tourists coming and going all the time, a place for tobogganing, a vender of postal cards, and all that sort of thing. But it is a fine glacier notwithstanding its pollutions.
After luncheon we boarded an ascending train and went through a long tunnel to what was then the terminus, the Eigerwand station (9405 feet high). One finds oneself in an artificial cavern hewn out of the rock, and an opening in the side gives a fine bird’s-eye view (if one cares for that sort of thing) of the Grindelwald valley, Interlaken and Lake Thun. But it looks a good deal like a railway map.
Altogether, though we were glad to have taken the trip so as to be sure we had not missed anything, we felt that the long ride in a dark tunnel in order to enjoy this peep-show view which doesn’t begin to be as fine as the one we left below us at the Scheidegg, was a good deal of a fake. Doubtless when the road is finished, one will have something well worth making the trip for, and I suppose the railroad must not be blamed for gathering in what shekels it can in the meantime, as its expenses of construction must be tremendous, but it is a little bit hard on the public!
We spent eleven days in Grindelwald this time, enjoying the (comparative) comforts of home and recuperating for another trip. It rained a good deal. But we managed to work in a number of walks and another picnic or so, and we had some moonlight evenings of surpassing loveliness. Frater ran across two Princeton men he knew in the village one day, and I asked them to stay to dinner with a brave show of hospitality, making rapid mental plans in the meantime for the acquiring of two more forks, spoons, knives, plates and glasses. However, they could not come, so it was all right.
It was during this period that the avalanches from the Wetterhorn became so numerous. There is a sheer drop of four or five thousand feet on the side towards the Grosse Scheidegg and at the top of it, sloping back steeply, an immense accumulation of snow. The summer’s meltings were beginning to tell on this, and every once in a while a great mass would detach itself and come sliding down over the edge of the cliff with a roar like thunder. It looked like a great foaming cascade, and would often keep pouring for several minutes, so that the one who first noticed it would call the others, who would leave what they were doing and get to windows or veranda in time to see a part of it. These phenomena came to be of daily occurrence, and we finally grew too blasé to run to the window when called.
Another beautiful effect we enjoyed was the rainbow that almost always followed a shower. One end of the bow generally came down in front of the Mettenberg cliffs, just opposite us, and lost itself in the foliage growing over the banks of the Lütschine.
Just before we left we had our first reminder of autumn in a snow-storm which covered the Männlichen slopes in front of us and the Faulhorn and Schwarzhorn ridges behind us with fine white powder.