was everywhere as thickly peopled and as wonderfully
cultivated. At Gonten, there is a large building for the whey-cure of
overfed people of the world. A great many such, I was told, come to
Appenzell for the summer. Many of the persons we met not only said, "God
greet you!" but immediately added, "Adieu!"--like the _Salve et vale_!
of classical times.

Beyond Gonten the road dropped into a wild ravine, the continual
windings of which rendered it very attractive. I found enough to admire
in every farm-house by the wayside, with its warm wood-color, its quaint
projecting balconies, and coat of shingle mail. When the ravine opened,
and the deep valley of Urnaesch, before me, appeared between cloven
heights of snow, disclosing six or eight square miles of perfect
emerald, over which the village is scattered, I was fully repaid for
having pressed farther into the heart of the land. There were still two
hours until night, and I might have gone on to the Rossfall,--a cascade
three or four miles higher up the valley,--but the clouds were
threatening, and the distant mountain-sides already dim under the rain.

At the village inn I found several herdsmen and mechanics, each with a
bottle of Rheinthaler wine before him. They were ready and willing to
give me all the information I needed. In order to reach the Toggenburg,
they said, I must go over the Kraetzernwald. It was sometimes a dangerous
journey; the snow was many cubits deep, and at this time of the year it
was frequently so soft that a man would sink to his hips. To-day,
however, there had been thunder, and after thunder the snow is always
hard-packed, so that you can walk on it; but to cross the Kraetzernwald
without a guide,--never! For two hours you were in a wild forest, not a
house, nor even a '_Sennhuett_' (herdsman's cabin) to be seen, and no
proper path, but a clambering hither and thither, in snow and mud; with
this weather,--yes, one _could_ get into Toggenburg that way, they said,
but not alone, and only because there had been thunder on the
mountains.

But all night the rain beat against my chamber window, and in the
morning the lower slopes of the mountains were gray with new snow, which
no thunder had packed. Indigo-colored clouds lay heavily on all the
Alpine peaks; the air was raw and chilly, and the roads slippery. In
such weather the scenery is not only shrouded, but the people are shut
up in their homes,--wherefore further travel would not have been