Chapter II: Part 2

"Here Tell waited and thought. He was waiting to see if Gessler would come, and he was thinking about the brave people who were being so cruelly treated by their Austrian Governor. He was willing, if necessary, to give his life to bring freedom to his country.

"At last Gessler and his men came hurrying up the path toward the castle. They had escaped the storm.

"As Tell stood hidden behind some bushes near the path he saw Gessler refuse to help a poor woman and her little children. The woman had come to beg the Governor to release her husband, who had been unjustly put into prison. Gessler would not listen to her, and the unhappy woman went away weeping.

"Tell was now sure that it was his duty to save his people from their suffering. So he let fly a swift arrow from his bow and it hit the mark, as his arrows always did.

"That was the last of Austrian Governors for Switzerland. The people have been free and have governed themselves ever since, and that, you know, is more than six hundred years," said the boys' father.

"Isn't it wonderful to be as brave as William Tell was!" said Jack after a moment.

"And isn't it wonderful to be as brave as Walter was!" said Joe. "I wonder if I could be as brave as that!"

A VISIT TO TELL'S COUNTRY

While the boys were listening to this interesting story, the steamer was carrying them slowly up the beautiful lake toward the very places where it all happened.

At last they came to a narrow part of the lake where the mountains rose steep and high on both sides.

"Look, boys!" said their father. "Do you see the little chapel just ahead of us, on the left? It is called Tell's Chapel, because it is built on the flat rock on to which Tell sprang from Gessler's boat that stormy day. On the walls inside of the chapel an artist has painted four large pictures showing the whole story of William Tell."

"Oh, father, please let us go ashore here," said Jack. "I want to look at those pictures."

"And I want to climb up into the dark woods behind the chapel," said Joe.

"All right," said their father. "How would you like to walk the rest of the way to the end of the lake? It is only two or three miles. I am sure you never have walked over so beautiful a road as this one."

"Oh, do let us walk!" shouted Joe. "It will be lots more fun than sitting still here on the steamer."

So they went ashore right near the little chapel. First, they looked at the pictures that told the story of Tell and Gessler, on the walls inside of the chapel. Then they followed a steep, narrow path that led up the mountain side through the dark woods. This path soon brought them to a pretty garden restaurant.

Of course they were all very thirsty, so they sat around a small table under the great trees and drank raspberry lemonade, which was served to them in very tall glasses. Raspberry lemonade, as it is made in Switzerland, is much nicer than plain lemonade, at least so the Overall Boys thought.

A few minutes later they began their tramp over one of the most beautiful roads in the world. It is called the Axenstrasse, because it is built along the side of the steep mountain called the Axenberg.

A part of the way the mountain is so steep the road could not be built on the outside of it, so a tunnel has been cut right through the rocky side. Here and there the outer wall of rock has been cut away, making great arches through which people can look out over the beautiful lake to the high mountains beyond.

The famous St. Gotthard railroad is also built along this mountain side. In some places the trains glide along the steep mountain almost straight above the deep lake, and in other places they pass through long, dark tunnels.

The carriage road over which the Overall Boys were tramping was as smooth and level as a floor. Many automobiles flew past the happy walking party, but the boys did not envy the people who were riding in them. They could see and enjoy everything, while those who had to ride missed a great deal.

They passed through two or three small villages, where the narrow balconies on the pretty chalets were all covered with beautiful climbing roses.

In the center of a fountain, in one of the small flower gardens, the boys saw the figure of a queer little dwarf with a large, red umbrella over his head.

"Oh, Jack, see that little man standing in the fountain!" cried Joe. "He looks like the good dwarfs we read about in fairy tales. See what a small body he has, and what a large head!"

"And do look at his long beard and his high, pointed cap!" said Jack. "How proud he is of his big, red umbrella! He stands in the center of the fountain with the water falling all around, but not a drop falls on him."

"Isn't he a jolly old fellow! I suppose he brings good luck to the people who own that garden," said Joe. "In fairy tales the mountain dwarfs always bring good luck, if they are treated kindly."

"Well, this old fellow looks as if he were enjoying his lovely garden home," said Jack.

At last the trampers came to a small town where there was a high coach drawn by four horses waiting to carry people two miles up the valley, to the village of Altdorf.

Travelers usually go to Altdorf by train now, but the Overall Boys chose to ride on top of the high coach.

It was a beautiful drive, and everybody was happy and hungry when the coach drew up to a small hotel in the famous little village.

Supper was served in the hotel garden, then the boys went to bed to dream of William Tell and his brave son, Walter, who had once walked the streets of this very village.

Quite early next morning, two eager little boys were standing in the old marketplace They were looking at the tall bronze monument of William Tell and his little son.

"Think of it!" said Joe. "William Tell stood on this very spot when he shot the apple from Walter's head."

"Yes," said Jack. "And Walter stood away back there, where the fountain now is."

"My! I know I should have trembled, if I had been in Walter's place," said Joe.

"I am sure Walter did not tremble. See how brave and happy he looks, as he stands up there with his father's hand on his shoulder. He was proud to help save his father's life. He was even willing to die to save him. Why, I should be willing to do as much for my father, if he were in trouble," said Jack.

"So should I!" cried Joe. "No one shall ever hurt father or mother, if I can help it!"

"Well, that sounds good," said their father, who came up behind the boys just in time to hear what they were talking about. "I shall not be afraid to serve my country, so long as I have boys as brave as Walter Tell."

"Oh, father, did this all really happen, or is it just a story?" asked Jack.

"Well," said their father, "a few wise men are telling us that it is only a legend, but many of the Swiss people believe that it is every bit true. They are proud to have had such heroes as William Tell and his little boy."

"Of course they are," said Joe. "I am going to believe that it is true. Why, William Tell did almost as much for his country as George Washington did for ours. I think that he ought to be called the 'Father of his Country,' the same as Washington is."

"So do I," said their father. "But let me tell you something now. I have a surprise for you. The people of the village are going to play the story of William Tell to-day in their little open-air theater on the edge of the woods.

"The king's hat will be there on a pole in the center of the busy marketplace, and all the people will bow low to it--all except William Tell and his little son, who will march proudly by it. Then, of course, Tell will have to shoot the apple from his little boy's head, and he will be taken across the stormy lake in Gessler's boat, and then he will spring out upon the rocky shore, and escape into the woods. Gessler and his men will climb up the mountain path toward the castle; the poor woman will beg Gessler to release her husband from prison--and all the rest of the story will be played. Would you like to see it?"

"Oh, of course we should!" exclaimed the boys. "We should rather see it than anything else we can think of."

And when they had seen it, they wanted to see it all right over again.

OVER AND THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS

Slowly, slowly up the mountain crept the long train. It was carrying the Overall Boys far away from lovely Lake Lucerne. It was taking them over the wonderful Brünig Pass. It was carrying them even more slowly down, down the steep slope on the other side toward the head of the deep valley, where lay the pretty Swiss village of Meiringen.

As the boys stood by the car window they could see the long line of track far below them. Sometimes when their train passed a sharp curve, they could even see the engine at one end of the train and the last car at the other end.

They glided over high bridges above torrents of water which dashed down the mountain to join the blue lake in the valley below.

It was wonderful--the mountains, the torrents, the lakes, and the strong train which carried them over everything! It was all so wonderful, the boys had no words to express their delight. For the first time on their long journey they were almost silent.

Once in a while one of the boys would cry: "Look at that great waterfall!" or "See the precipice right below us!" or "Watch us cross that high bridge!"

It was much more exciting than the ride in the thunder storm up Mount Rigi, but at last even this ride came to an end.

Yes, the wonderful ride over the Brünig Pass ended at Meiringen, but the more wonderful tramp over the Great Scheidegg Pass was to begin at Meiringen, and the boys were to have other strange experiences down in the deep, green valley. The most exciting of them all came the very next morning.

There was an early breakfast eaten in the pretty garden of the hotel, then their father said:

"Now for the fun! Yesterday we went _over_ a mountain. To-day we shall go _through_ one."

"Are we going through a tunnel?" cried Joe.

"No, indeed!" said their father. "At least it is not a tunnel made by men. Come and see what you think of it."

They were soon tramping along the village street toward the high mountain at the head of the narrow valley. A swift river hurried past them to join the lake at the other end of the valley. It was the river Aar.

The boys saw where the river had overflowed its banks in the springtime, when the snows melted and the heavy rains came. They were told that the bridges were often washed away, and that sometimes great masses of rocks came tearing down the mountain side, right into the little village, crushing and burying everything in their path.

The party quickly left the village far behind them, and each step brought them nearer to the high mountain wall close ahead.

"How shall we get over that mountain, father?" asked Joe. "Shall we have to climb to the top?"

"No, Joe," said his father. "We shall do no climbing to-day. I believe we can go through it, if this swift river can."

"Of course we can!" shouted Jack. "Let's follow the river."

So they followed a footpath along the banks of the noisy river. Soon the banks began to grow high and steep. At last they rose straight up on both sides, until the boys could see only a narrow strip of blue sky far above them.

"The mountain has cracked open!" shouted Joe. "We are in the crack!"

"So we are!" cried Jack. "I believe the river did it. See it come tearing along!"

"Look ahead of us!" said Joe. "There isn't room even for a path. A board walk has been fastened with iron rods to the wall. It hangs right over the rushing water. What if it should break while we are on it! I am not sure that I want to go any farther."

"Come, now, don't be a coward, Joe," said his father. "The Swiss government builds these paths, and they are built strong. We are safe."

So on they tramped through the great crack in the mountain. In some places the path hung high over the swift waters. In other places it was tunneled through the dark rocks. But always it followed the deep, narrow crack, with the noisy river at its bottom and a bit of blue sky far, far above.

For nearly a mile the boys followed this path. In many places the river was so noisy they had to shout to make each other hear. But at last they came out on the other side of the mountain.

They had not climbed the mountain, and they had not gone around it. They had gone _through_ it. And more wonderful still, the great river Aar has been carrying its waters through the mountain for ages and ages.

Close beside the river, at the end of the path, was a tiny shop kept by a little old woman and her granddaughter.

The little girl served the boys to raspberry lemonade, and she sold them picture post cards showing the strange path over which they had just come.

Then back they went into the mountain crack--over the footpath hanging high above the rushing water, and through the small, dark tunnels, until once more they were in the lovely green valley of Meiringen.

REAL TRAMPERS

Next morning the boys were up with the sun, for there was a long journey ahead of them. It was not to be a journey by train nor by boat. It was to be a journey on foot.

The party was to follow a trail over the high mountain range which shuts in the deep valley of the river Aar on the south. The trail would lead them over the Great Scheidegg Pass and down into the beautiful valleys on the other side.

They were going to spend at least a week on the way. There would be so many interesting things to see and to do, they would not want to hurry.

The boys carried knapsacks on their backs, in which they put the few things they would need while crossing the mountains. They were real trampers at last.

The first part of the trail was very steep. The little party climbed up and up, until the village, far below them, looked very small indeed.

After awhile they heard a strange rumbling noise, which grew louder and louder the higher they climbed. Soon it became a roar, and right above their path they saw a tremendous waterfall tumbling down over the steep mountain side. It fairly made the rocks tremble, it fell with such force, and the air was filled with a fine, wet spray.

The boys sprang up the path close beside the great waterfall. When they reached the top of it they were a very wet but a very jolly party.

"Well, that's the most fun we have had yet!" shouted Joe. "I should like to do it right over again."

"I shouldn't," said a little girl who was standing near by. "I have to come up here every few days. I don't like to get so wet."

"Why do you come up so often?" asked Jack.

"I go down to the village to buy bread for mother. I live up here. That is our chalet up there by the brook. My name is Gretel."

"Do you go down to the village to school, too?" asked Joe.

"Yes," answered the little girl. "But this is vacation time now. I often take another path when I go to school. Sometimes I ride home on that big car, which helps me up the mountain as far as the waterfall."

"Do you go to school all winter?" asked Jack.

"Oh, yes! except when the snow is so deep I just can't get there. All of us girls and boys have to go to school forty weeks every year. I am glad we do. I like to go to school."

"Please let us carry that basket of bread for you," said Jack. "I think our path goes right by your house."

So the children walked on up the path together, and Gretel told the boys many interesting things about her life on the mountain alp.

"I always thought a Swiss alp was a high mountain peak," said Joe.

"Oh, no! An alp is a lovely mountain meadow," said Gretel. "See what a fine great alp ours is. This is one of the low alps. Father raises lots of hay here to feed the cows during the long winter."

"Where are your cows now?" asked Jack.

"They are feeding farther up on the higher alps," said Gretel. "Father takes them up early every summer, and they don't come down until fall."

"Do you think we shall see them on our way over the mountains?" asked Joe.

"Yes, I am sure you will," said Gretel. "Your path goes right across the alp where father's little cabin is. My two brothers, Franz and Sep, are up there with father now. They take care of the goats, and help to milk the cows and make the cheese. I wish I were up there, too!"

"Why can't you go up with us?" asked Jack. "You could surprise your father and brothers."

"Oh, I should love to go!" cried Gretel. "I could stay with them in their little cabin for a few days, then Franz would bring me home, I know he would. I will ask mother if I may go. See, this is our chalet."

It was a pretty, brown chalet. The broad, low roof was covered with many large stones to keep it from being blown away during the great winter storms.

But now it was the lovely summer time, and Gretel's mother had set two small tables just outside her front door. She always had something good to serve to hungry trampers To-day there was a big bowl of delicious wild strawberries on each of the tables.

Of course the Overall Boys were suddenly very hungry. And how they enjoyed the bread and butter and wild strawberries and cream which Gretel's mother served to them!

After the tea party was over, Gretel showed them the lace which she was making. There were yards and yards of it. The boys thought it was wonderful to see Gretel move the bobbins of thread so quickly over the big pillow, and never make mistakes in the pattern.

"I have been making lace ever since I was five years old," said Gretel. "I sell enough lace every summer to pay for all of my clothes."

"Oh, Gretel, will you sell some to us?" asked Joe. "We don't wear lace ourselves, but the Sunbonnet Babies do. They would love to wear some of your lace."

"And I should love to have them wear it. Of course I will sell you some," said Gretel.

Then the boys chose some of the very prettiest lace Gretel had made, and bought it for the Sunbonnet Babies.

"Now I want to show you where my bees live," said Gretel. And she led the boys up the hill behind her house where, under some great trees, was a row of tiny chalets.

"This is my bee village," she said. "Each bee family has a little chalet of its own. The bees fly all over our alp, gathering nectar from the flowers. Sometimes they fly very far away, hunting for more flowers, but they always come back again, bringing their baskets full of nectar.

"They work so hard, they fill their little houses brim full of honey every summer. I am sure we couldn't live without our bees. Some summers they earn more money than father can."

"There must be millions of bees in Switzerland to make so much honey," said Jack. "I believe every family here eats honey for breakfast. In America we eat cereal. I think honey is much nicer."

ON THE TRAIL

"Come, boys!" called their father. "It is time to go on. Gretel's mother says she may go with us as far as her father's cabin. We shall give Franz and Sep a fine surprise."

"Oh, goody!" cried Gretel. "I haven't seen Franz and Sep since they took the cows up the mountain in the spring."

"Tell us about it, Gretel," said Jack. "What happens when the cows go up the mountain?"

"Why, that is the jolliest day of the whole year," said Gretel, "except, perhaps, the day when they all come home in the fall.

"Father ties big bells around the necks of the prettiest cows, and mother and I trim their horns with flowers. Then the procession begins. This year Sep led the procession with his seven little goats. He was the proudest boy that ever went up the mountain.

"The cows know what it means when the bells are tied to their necks. The summer on the alps is a long picnic for them. Mother and I go up a little way with the procession. Other families take their cows up the mountain the same day, and we sing and have a jolly time."

"Do you send all of your cows up to the higher alps in the spring?" asked Jack. "Where did you get the delicious cream that your mother gave us to-day?"

"We keep one cow at home to give us milk and cream during the summer," said Gretel. "I am always sorry for the poor cow that is left behind, she is so lonesome. We have to tie her very carefully, or she runs away. She keeps going until she finds her friends 'way up the mountain. Then, of course, father or one of the boys must bring her down again."

"Oh, Gretel, when your brothers see you coming they will think you have run away because you are so lonesome without them," said Joe, laughing.

"Well, they must keep me a week before they take me home, or I shall run away again," said Gretel. "I _am_ lonesome without them."

And so they talked, as they tramped along together up the mountain trail. Once they met a man with a large milk can on his back. The man greeted the party with a friendly, "Guten Tag! Glückliche Reise!" This was his way of saying, "Good day! A happy journey!" So the boys quickly answered, "Danke schön!" which means, "Thank you kindly!"

Every day this man carried his can full of milk down the mountain to sell to the people who had no cows. He always greeted the strangers whom he passed on the way, and wished them a happy journey.

On and on, and up and up the little party tramped. At last they began to see snowbanks, in shaded places near the trail. Sometimes, just below a large snowbank, they found a sunny spot covered with a carpet of lovely summer flowers. There were violets and buttercups and daisies and forget-me-nots, and low bushes of small red alpine roses.

These little wild gardens were watered all summer by the melting snows. The gay flowers seemed to like the icy water at their roots.

The Overall Boys often stopped for a snowball battle with each other and with Gretel. Then from some mountain garden, they picked fresh flowers for their hats, and on they tramped.

Their trail led them below a large glacier, which lay between two high mountain peaks not far away. The boys could hear the great ice river twisting and turning in its bed, for the hot summer sun made it very uncomfortable.

Once there came a loud boom, like a cannon. The boom was followed by a crash, and the crash by a long, loud rumbling noise, which gradually died away.

"Oh, Gretel, what was that?" cried Joe. "I believe it was an earthquake."

"Oh, no! That was not an earthquake," said Gretel, laughing. "That was a piece of the glacier breaking off. It must have had a long fall before it found a place where it could stop."

"I am glad it couldn't fall in this direction," said Jack. "I thought I wanted to take a walk on a glacier, but I am not so sure about it now."

"Oh, yes, you must!" said Gretel. "It is lots of fun. I have been up to that glacier twice with father. There are great cracks in it, so deep you can hardly see the bottom of them. It is perfectly safe to go with father. He often takes Americans up there."

"Well, I think I should rather take a walk on some other glacier. I am afraid this one is going to pieces," said Joe.

"No, it isn't!" said Gretel, laughing at Joe again. "The glacier melts and moves a little every summer, but a great deal of fresh snow falls on it every winter. I guess it will last as long as the mountains do."

THE HERDSMAN'S CABIN

It was late afternoon before the trampers reached the green alp where Gretel's father and brothers were pasturing their cows.

It was milking time. Franz and his father were milking the big, brown cows near the cabin. Sep was milking his goats. The pigs were eating their supper of skimmed milk, and Barry, the dog, was keeping his eye on them all.

It was Barry who first saw the trampers, and away he bounded to meet them. His bark was very fierce until Gretel called him by name, then he almost wagged his tail off, he was so glad to see her. He was even glad to see the strangers, because they had brought Gretel with them.

Franz and Sep and their father were just as happy as Barry to see their little Gretel and her strange friends from America.

Soon they were all eating supper together, sitting around a rough table in the small cabin. It was a simple supper, but the hungry boys thought they never had eaten a nicer one. There was a long loaf of bread, and a great round cheese with holes all through it, and a dish of wild strawberries, and a pitcher of warm milk.

While they were eating, they suddenly heard the clear, sweet notes of a horn. The sound came from the high mountain above the cabin. In a moment the same notes came more softly from the mountain on the other side of the alp, and again still more softly they came.

"What is that?" cried Joe.

"It is my neighbor, who pastures his cows on the alp above us," said Gretel's father. "He is blowing his great horn to tell us that the sun is just setting behind that snow-covered peak. I must answer him, so he may know that all is well with us."

Then the herdsman took his great horn, which was taller than himself, and went out in front of his cabin. He blew a few long, clear notes, which meant, he said, "Praise ye the Lord." Again and again the same notes came back in echo from the mountain walls, each time more softly.

The snow-covered peaks were no longer white, but glowing red from the rays of the setting sun. Then darkness came on very quickly.

The tired travelers were glad to find a small inn on the alp where they could spend the night. Of course Gretel stayed with her father and brothers in their little cabin.

There were only two rooms in the cabin. The larger room belonged to the cows. They came in here to be milked in stormy weather. In the other room the family cooked and ate and made their cheeses. Their bedroom was a low balcony over one end of this room, and they reached it by climbing up a short ladder.

Next morning the boys were wakened early by Sep calling to them outside of their window.

"Oh, Jack and Joe," he called, "come with me. I have to take my goats up the mountain to their pasture. There is something fine up there that I want to show you."

So Jack and Joe went with Sep and his goats up the rocky mountain side. It was a hard climb, but it was fun.

The little goats could climb anywhere. They went into dangerous places where the cows could not go, and they found many tender bits of grass to eat.

When the boys had climbed very high, Sep crept carefully out on a narrow shelf of rock. He lay face downward and reached far over the edge. The mountain side was very steep below him.

"Watch me, boys!" he cried. "But don't you come too near."

Then, very carefully, he picked a small, furry, white flower which was growing on the steep, rocky wall. He picked another and another of the flowers, until his hand was full of them.

"There now!" he cried. "You know my secret. I have shown you where my edelweiss grows. It grows only in the most dangerous places on the high mountains. I pick a few of the flowers every day, when they are in bloom, to sell to travelers who cross our alp, but you are the only people I have ever brought up here to see them growing."

"Oh, thank you, Sep!" cried Jack. "We'll never, never tell your secret. But please let us pick a few of the flowers ourselves."

So each of the boys carried down the mountain a handful of the proud little flowers which they had picked themselves.

The Overall Boys were real mountain climbers at last, for only mountain climbers ever find and pick the edelweiss.

When the boys reached the cabin, Sep's father was watching a great kettle of milk, over an open fire. He had put more than a hundred quarts of milk into the copper kettle, with a little rennet to make it turn into curd.

Herdsmen make their rennet by soaking a calf's stomach in water or in whey; they then save this liquid to use in making their cheeses.

Sep's father stirred and watched the milk in his great copper kettle until the curd began to form. He then swung the kettle away from the fire, and put both bare arms into the warm milk. He worked the cheese into one large lump, and lifted it out on a great tray, where he worked it still more to squeeze out the milk.

It was then put into a round, wooden press a few days. Each day the press was opened and the cheese rubbed with salt.

When it was just right, it would be taken out and laid on a shelf in the small cheese house, where all the cheeses were kept until they could be carried down the mountain and sold. But they were not really good to eat until they were at least six months old.

Sep's father made one of these cheeses every day, and he made cheeses from his goats' milk, too. He and his boys lived a busy life on the mountain. They had no time to be lonesome.

The Overall Boys told Franz and Sep how they often had Swiss cheese for dinner in America. They said when they got home again they should certainly tell their grocer just how his big Swiss cheeses were made.

A SUMMER BLIZZARD

The travelers spent two happy days with their friends in the herdsman's cabin. They would like to have spent the rest of the summer with them. Jack and Joe would like to have learned how to milk the goats and how to blow the great alpine horn.

But there were many other things which they wanted to do and to see in this wonderful little country of Switzerland, so they shouldered their knapsacks and started once more on the trail.

The way soon became steep and rocky. Gray clouds hid the snow-covered peaks. The wind blew cold, and the boys were glad of the hard climb to keep themselves warm.

They crossed one or two small alps where cows were feeding, and they stopped at a tiny cabin to ask for a drink of milk.

In the cabin they found a small boy, who was watching a large kettle of milk over an open fire. The boy said that his father had gone up the mountain to hunt for a lost cow, so he was making cheese from his goats' milk.

The Overall Boys were quite sure that they would be lonesome, if they had to stay away up there all alone. But this little boy whistled and sang and talked with his goats, calling them each by name. They really were having a jolly time together.

After the good drink of milk the travelers tramped on and up, while the gray clouds dropped lower and the wind grew colder. Soon fine white flakes began to frisk through the air and to dance on the boys' cheeks.

"Oh, Jack," called Joe, "it is snowing!"

"So it is!" shouted Jack. "It's snowing! It's really snowing, and it's summer time! Hurrah!"

The white flakes fell faster and thicker. In a few moments they were falling so fast and so thick the trampers could see only a short way ahead of them. It was hard climbing now. The path was steep and slippery. The boys had to stop often to get their breath, and their knapsacks suddenly grew very heavy.

"I suppose it is because we are up so high," said Jack. "The air is so thin up here we can't get enough of it to breathe. It is always like that on the high mountains, they say."

"I don't care," said Joe. "We are in a snow blizzard, anyhow. Just think of it!"

"I shouldn't care to lose our path," said Jack. "I guess it wouldn't be a very happy night for us if we did."

"Oh, Jack, I have lost the path already! I can hardly see you. My! How it snows! Where are father and mother?"

"Here we are!" shouted their father. "I think we are near the top of the Pass. I hear a dog barking. There is a house up at the top, where we can stay all night. Keep climbing, boys!"

Just then a great dog came bounding down the mountain toward them. He gave a short, quick bark, turned about and led the party safely up to the small hotel. Then away he bounded again to find other travelers, who might be lost in the snow and who needed his help. He was a St. Bernard dog, and he had saved the lives of many people on the high mountains.

It was a tired party that spent the night in the little hotel at the top of the Great Scheidegg Pass, but when morning came they were ready for another battle with the snow.

Of course the trail was covered, and the snow was too soft and too deep for them to tramp over it without snowshoes. The little party was snow-bound on the mountains in midsummer.

But the Overall Boys liked being snow-bound. They built a fine snow fort, with snow soldiers in it, and piles of snow cannon balls to keep enemies away from the little hotel.

The St. Bernard dog had a jolly time, too. Once he jumped against one of the snow soldiers, and over they went together. After that he seemed to be afraid of the soldiers and would not go near the fort, but ran around it, barking loudly.

Next morning the boys were out early to take a look at things.

"Oh, Jack," shouted Joe, "it froze in the night! There is a hard crust over everything!"

"So there is!" said Jack. "We don't need snowshoes now. We can go down the mountain on the crust."

And that is what they did. With the St. Bernard dog to show them the way, the party hurried down over the snow before the warm sun had time to soften the crust.

As they went lower, the snow rapidly grew less. Soon the boys saw lovely bluebells and alpine roses and other flowers holding their heads bravely up through the thin, white blanket.

A few moments later their own trail came in sight. It was no longer hidden by the snow. The St. Bernard dog gave a loud bark, wagged his tail, and bounded back up the mountain. His work for that party was done.

EXPLORING A GLACIER

The rest of the way down the mountain was easy tramping.

The path soon led by the end of the great Upper Wetterhorn Glacier, and the Overall Boys begged their father to let them explore it.

"All right," said their father. "Just step into this small car and we will go on an exploring trip."

Before the boys knew what was happening, the tiny square car rose from the ground and began moving slowly upward, following the steep slope of the mountain.

"Oh, Jack, where are we going?" cried Joe. "This car is built bottom side up. The wheels are on the top of it, instead of on the bottom."

"That's so!" exclaimed Jack. "We are hanging in the air on a cable. It is lifting us right up the mountain side. And look away up there! Another car just like this one is coming down. My! Do you suppose we shall go as high as that?"

"I hope so," said Joe. "But see what is below us. It is the glacier! Look at the great cracks in it. Do you hear that noise, Jack? It sounds like thunder."

"I guess it is only another crack bursting open," said Jack. "This hot sun makes the glacier move faster, and so it cracks open."

Up, up, climbed the car, right over the glacier, until it came to a wild goat's path on a narrow shelf of the mountain, more than twelve hundred feet above the starting point.

Here it slipped into a small station, and everybody stepped out. Other people took their places, and then the car moved slowly downward, leaving the boys on the steep mountain side.

"My! That was great!" cried Jack. "Now what are we going to do?"

"We are going to walk across the glacier, aren't we, father?" said Joe.

"Of course we are. We have come up here to explore it, you know," said their father.

And they did explore 'way across the great ice river. In many places they had to walk very carefully, or they would have fallen into one of the deep cracks, but at last they came safely to the other side. There was no car on this side of the glacier to carry them down the mountain, but there were long ladders to help them over the very hardest and steepest places.

They had to climb over great ridges of rocks, which the glacier had torn away from the higher mountains years and years before. These rocks had been brought slowly down on the ice, and dropped along the sides and end of the glacier.

At last the party came to the place where the sun and the warm winds changed the glacier from a river of ice to a river of water.

"Well, boys," said their father, "we have had a look at the outside of the glacier; now let us take a look at the inside of it." So a man threw warm blankets over their shoulders, and they entered a long, narrow passage through a hole in the ice wall.

This passage led into a beautiful, blue ice room. The floor was ice, the walls were ice, and the ceiling was ice. There was no lamp in the room, and yet it was not dark.

"Isn't it beautiful!" cried Joe. "Think of it, we are in the center of a great ice river. There is nothing but ice all around us."

"I know it," said Jack. "I am sure the glaciers are the most wonderful things in Switzerland, but I have stayed inside of this one as long as I want to. I should rather be tramping."

AUF WIEDERSEHEN

And so they tramped on. They spent several days in the lovely village of Grindelwald. They explored glaciers. They saw waterfalls nearly a thousand feet high. They played games with the village boys and girls.

They even went almost to the top of the great Jungfrau mountain, over its wonderful railroad. The highest part of this railroad is built through a tunnel, for the surface of the mountain is covered always with snow and ice.

The train carried them nearly twelve thousand feet above the ocean. They were twice as high up as they were on the top of Mount Rigi. There were miles and miles of snow and ice all around them, and great banks of snow-white clouds in the blue sky close above.

They could see many high peaks covered with snow fields and glaciers, and lower mountains covered with green forests and alpine pastures. They had glimpses into deep, narrow valleys with muddy rivers rushing through them. Here and there were big, broad valleys dotted with villages and farms, and beautiful blue lakes, while the busy railroad trains looked like worms creeping over the hills and down the valleys. It was a wonderful view.

The Overall Boys learned more about the geography of Switzerland in a few minutes from this high mountain than they had learned during all the days of travel lower down. They never will forget what they saw while there.

But the vacation days were over at last. The boys had visited only a small part of the wonderful little country, but they had seen enough of it to make them want to spend another summer vacation in just the same way. They are sure that Switzerland is the very finest playground in the whole world, and a great many other people think so, too.

As the train hurried them far away from the high, snow-covered mountains, the boys stood by the car windows, watching and enjoying everything.

They passed ripe grain fields, in which wild scarlet poppies and tall bluebells were growing.

Close by these wild-flower gardens there was often a row of tiny chalets, where swarms of bees lived and made their delicious honey.

The train passed also through many villages of larger chalets, with broad red roofs and vine-covered balconies. In front of these pretty homes sat women and little girls working at their lace and fine embroidery.

Now and then they saw groups of small boys carrying goatskin book sacks on their backs, for the short summer vacation was over, and the Swiss schools had begun.

In a flower garden, near one of the stations, a mountain dwarf waved a Swiss flag in farewell to the passing travelers. But the nicest good-by came from a row of boys and girls sitting on a fence near the railroad track. They were selling wild flowers to travelers, as the trains stopped at their station. They shouted the names in German, French, and English--"Alpine roses, primroses, edelweiss, daisies, buttercups!"--and they eagerly begged the travelers to buy.

Of course Jack and Joe bought their hands full, for these might be the last Swiss flowers they would have for a very long time.

As the train moved on, the boys and girls, sitting on the fence, waved their hands and shouted, "Auf Wiedersehen! Glückliche Reise!"

And the Overall Boys shouted back, "Good-by! Good-by, until we meet again!"

A LETTER

_Dear Boys and Girls:_

_I expect you will agree with the Overall Boys that nowhere else can there be quite so many wonderful things to see and to do, as there are in Switzerland._

_Massachusetts and New Hampshire are very small states, you know, but together they are larger than the whole of Switzerland, and more people live in these two small states than live in Switzerland to-day._

_One fourth of this famous little country is covered with lakes and rivers and glaciers, and nearly another fourth with great forests, while a large part of the remaining land is used as pasturage for a million and a half cows._

_Raising cows and making cheese is the principal industry, but the clever Swiss people have many other prosperous industries as well. They make fine silks and ribbons and marvelous little watches and music boxes and jewelry and delicious sweet chocolate. Some of the men do fine wood carving, and the women do beautiful embroidery._

_One of the most important lines of work is hotel keeping. Many thousands of strangers visit Switzerland every year. In winter they go there for the skating and sleighing and snowshoeing and skiing and to enjoy the bracing mountain air. In summer they do what the Overall Boys did, besides many other interesting things._

_Travelers spend so much money in Switzerland, and the people who live there work so hard, they have become the richest people in the world._

_Swiss schools are especially fine. Children are obliged to attend school from the time they are six years old until they are fifteen or sixteen years old._

_In summer the schools begin at seven o'clock in the morning and in winter at eight o'clock, holding four hours. During the winter months there is also a session of three hours each afternoon in the week, excepting two. On these two afternoons the boys are given other work to do, and the girls attend sewing classes. They have no regular holiday, but must go to school six days every week. The boys do a great deal of gymnasium work in the winter, which keeps them strong and trains them to be mountain guides and hunters and herdsmen._

_There are three national languages in Switzerland--German and French and Italian. German is used much more than French or Italian, but nearly all Swiss boys and girls learn to speak at least two languages. Sometimes they learn three or four. In fact it is said that Swiss people learn to speak languages more perfectly than any other people in the world. They are certainly among the best educated and most courageous people in the world._

_The Overall Boys learned a great deal while traveling in that beautiful little country, and they are glad to share it all with you._

_Sincerely your friend_,
EULALIE OSGOOD GROVER

[Transcriber's Notes: There diacritical marks that cannot be represented in plain text are displayed using the following mark-up:

Bold text is surrounded by +addition signs+ and italic text is surrounded by underscores.

If the symbol is before the letter or letters in the brackets then the symbol is above the letters, if it is after the letter or letters in the brackets, it is below the letters.

Markup Signifies
[)x] = breve
[:x] = umlaut
[.x] = dot
[=x] = macron
[+x] = tack
[~x] = tilde
[^x] = caret
[nj] = diagraph nj]

A LIST OF DIFFICULT WORDS

Diacritically marked according to Webster's New International Dictionary

KEY TO DIACRITICAL MARKS

+ă+ as in +ăm+
+ä+ as in +ärm+
+_ȧ_+ as in +_ȧ_bound´+
+ȧ+ as in +ȧsk+
+ā+ as in +fāte+
+[+a]+ as in +sen´[+a]te+
+_ă_+ as in +mad´_ă_m+
+ĕ+ as in +ĕnd+
+[+e]+ as in +[+e] vent´+
+ẽ+ as in +hẽr+
+_ĕ_+ as in +re´c_ĕ_nt+
+ē+ as in +ēve+
+ĭ+ as in +ĭt+
+ī+ as in +īce+
+ô+ as in +ôr+
+[+o]+ as in +[+o] bey´+
+ō+ as in +ōld+
+_ŏ_+ as in +c_ŏ_n nect´+
+ŭ+ as in +ŭp+
+_ŭ_+ as in +cir´c_ŭ_s+
+û+ as in +fûrl+
+[+u]+ as in +[+u]nite´+
+ü+ something like prolonged +[+u]+ as in +[+u]nite´+
+[)oo]+ as in +f[)oo]t+
+[=oo]+ as in +f[=oo]d+
+oi+ as in +oil+
+ou+ as in +out+
+[+tu)]+ for _tu_ as in +na´[+tu)]re+
+çh+ as in +ma çhine´+
+[nj]+ (like _ng_): for _n_ before the sound _k_ or hard _g_
as in +ba[nj]k+
+'+ for voice glide as in +par´d'n+

_Aar_ (är)
_accepted_ (ăk sĕpt´ĕd)
_alpine_ (ăl´pĭn)
_Alps_ (ălps)
_Altdorf_ (ält´dôrf)
_Antwerp_ (ănt´wẽrp)
_arched_ (ärcht)
_Austria_ (ôs´trĭ _ȧ_)
_automobile_ (ô´t[+o] mō´bĭl)
_Axenberg_ (äks´'n bĕrg)
_Axenstrasse_ (äks´'n strä´s_ĕ_)

_Belgium_ (bĕl´jĭ ŭm)
_Bern_ (b[^u]rn)
_bishop_ (bĭsh´_ŭ_p)
_blizzard_ (blĭz´_ȧ_rd)
_botany_ (bŏt´_ȧ_ nĭ)
_bridge_ (brĭj)
_Brünig_ (brün´ĭg)

_castle_ (kȧs´'l)
_ceiling_ (sēl´ĭng)
_celebrating_ (sĕl´[+e] brāt´ĭng)
_chalet_ (shȧ lā´)
_Chinese_ (chī nēs´)
_conductor_ (k_ŏ_n dŭk´tẽr)
_cuckoo_ (k[)oo]k´[=oo])

_dangerous_ (dān´jẽr _ŭ_s)
_dragon_ (drăg _ŭ_n)
_dungeon_ (dŭn´j_ŭ_n)
_dwarf_ (dwôrf)

_earthquake_ ([^u]rth´kwāk)
_edelweiss_ (ā´d_ĕ_l vīs)
_embroidery_ (ĕm broid´ẽr ĭ)
_enemies_ (ĕn´[+e] mĭz)
_Europe_ ([+u]´r_ŭ_p)
_explore_ (ĕks plōr´)

_famous_ (fā´m_ŭ_s)
_favorite_ (fā´ vẽr ĭt)
_figure_ (fĭg´[+u]r)
_fortunately_ (f[^o]r´[+tu)] n[+a]t lĭ)
_fountain_ (foun´tĭn)
_franc_ (fră[nj]k)
_Franz_ (frȧntz)

_Galilee_ (găl´ĭ lē)
_Gessler_ (gĕs´lẽr)
_glacier_ (glā´shẽr)
_gnaw_ (nô)
_Gretel_ (grĕ´t'l)
_Grindlewald_ (grĭn´dĕl vält)

_Jungfrau_ (y[)oo]ng´frou´)

_knapsack_ (năp´săk)

_language_ (lă[nj]´gw[+a]j)
_legend_ (lĕj´_ĕ_nd)
_Lucerne_ (l[+u] sûrn´)

_maiden_ (mād´'n)
_Meiringen_ (mī´rĭng _ĕ_n)
_miserable_ (mĭz´ẽr _ȧ_ b´l)
_museum_ (m[+u] zē´_ŭ_m)

_naughty_ (nô´tĭ)
_nectar_ (nĕk´t_ȧ_r)

_pasture_ (pȧs´[+tu)]r)
_Pilate_ (p[+e]´lȧt)
_Pilatus_ (p[+e] lä´t[)oo]s)
_procession_ (pr[+o] sĕsh´_ŭ_n)
_protected_ (pr[+o] tĕkt´ĕd)

_quaint_ (kwānt)

_restaurant_ (rĕs´t[+o] r_ă_nt)
_Rhine_ (rīn)
_Rigi_ (rē´g[+e])

_scenery_ (sēn´ẽr ĭ)
_Scheidegg_ (shī´dĕg)
_Sep_ (sĕp)
_skiing_ (skē´ĭng)
_soldier_ (sōl´jẽr)
_St. Gotthard_ (s[+a]nt gŏth´_ȧ_rd)
_St. Bernard_ (s[+a]nt bûr närd´)
_Switzerland_ (swĭt´zẽr l_ȧ_nd)

_terrace_ (tĕr´[+a]s)
_thunder_ (thŭn´dẽr)

_umbrella_ (um brĕl´_ȧ_)

_vineyard_ (vĭn´y_ȧ_rd)

_weird_ (wērd)
_Wetterhorn_ (vĕt´ẽr hôrn´)

Approximate pronunciation of German words:

_Ich danke euch allen_ (ĭçh dän´kĕ oiçh äl´ĕn)
_Guten Tag! Glückliche Reise_ (g[=oo]t´ĕn täg! glŭk´lĭçh ẽr rī´zĕ)
_Danke schön_ (dän´kĕ shûrn)
_Auf Wiedersehn_ (ouf vēd´ẽr zān´)

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.