Anon came flashes of lightning,
rattling hail, and driving rain, succeeded by bursts of storm, and
howlings of a hurricane - fierce, furious, frightful. I felt myself
lost in a snow storm in winter, on the pass of Great St. Bernard.
One note there was of strange, terrible clangor - bleak, dark, yet of a
lurid fire - that seemed to prolong itself through all the uproar, like
a note of doom, cutting its way to the heart as the call of the last
archangel. Yes, I felt myself alone, lost in a boundless desert,
beyond the abodes of man; and this was a call of terror-stern, savage,
gloomy - the call as of fixed fate and absolute despair.
Then the storm died away, in faint and far-off murmurs; and we broke,
as it were, from the trance, to find ourselves, _not_ lost, but
here among the living. We then drove quietly to Berne.
Wednesday, July 20. Examined, not the lions, but the bears of Berne.
It is indeed a city of bears, as its name imports. There are bears on
its gates, bears on its fountains, bears in its parks and gardens,
bears every where. But, though Berne rejoices in a fountain adorned
with an image of Saturn eating children, nevertheless, the old
city - quaint, quiet, and queer - looks as if, bear-like, it had been
hybernating good-naturedly for a century, and were just about to wake
up.
Engaged a _voiture_, and drove to Thun. Dined, and drove by the
shore of the lake to Interlachen, arriving just after a brilliant
sunset.
Thursday, July 21. S. and G. remained at the Belvedere. W., II., and I
took a guide and _voiture_ for Lauterbrunn. Here we visited
Byron's apocalyptic horse-tail waterfall, the Staubbach. This
waterfall is very sublime, all except the water and the fall. Whoever
has been "under the sheet" at Niagara will not be particularly
impressed here. This picture is sufficiently accurate, with the
exception of the cottage. People here do not build cottages under
waterfalls.
[Illustration: _of the waterfall and cliff rising sharply to the left
of the roadway. A cabin appears to be located very near its base._]
Here we crossed the Wengern Alps to Grindelwald. The Jungfrau is right
over against us - her glaciers purer, tenderer, more dazzlingly
beautiful, if possible, than those of Mont Blanc. Slept at
Grindelwald.
LETTER XXXVIII.
DEAR CHILDREN: -
To-day we have been in the Wengern Alps - the scenes described in
Manfred. Imagine us mounting, about ten o'clock, from the valley of
Lauterbrunn, on horseback - our party of three - with two guides. We had
first been to see the famous Staubbach, a beautiful, though not
sublime, object. Up we began to go among those green undulations which
form the lower part of the mountain.
[Illustration: _of narrow, high alpine meadows with grazing livestock._]
It is haying time; a bright day; all is cheerful; the birds sing; men,
women, and children are busy in the field.
