pantomime are
not rapid means of communication, when it comes to detail. The great
question in Christian's mind seemed to be, what should we take with us
to eat and drink? and when he propounded this to me with steady
pertinacity, I, with equal pertinacity, had only one answer--a cord and
a hatchet. At last he provided these, vowing that they were ridiculously
unnecessary, but comprehending that they must be forthcoming, as a
preliminary to anything more digestible; and then I told him, some dry
bread and no wine. This drove him from grunts to words. No wine! it
would be so frightfully hot on the mountains!--I told him I never drank
wine when I was hot. But it would be so terribly cold in the cave!--I
never drank wine when I was cold. But the climbing was _sehr stark_--we
should need to give ourselves strength!--I never needed to give myself
strength. There was no good water to be found the whole way!--I never
drank water. Then, at last, after a brief grunt with the landlord, he
struck:--he simply would not go without wine! I never wished him to do
so, I explained; he might take as much as he chose, and I would pay for
it, but he need not count me for anything in calculating how much was
necessary. This made him perfectly happy; and when I answered his
question touching cheese in a similar manner, only limiting him to a
pound and a half, he rushed off for a large wicker _hotte_, spacious
enough for the stowage of many layers of babies; and in it he packed all
our properties, and all his provisions. The landlord had made his own
calculations, and put it at 3lbs. of bread and 2lbs. of cheese; but I
cut down the bread on account of its bulk, before I saw the size of the
_hotte_, and Christian seemed to think he had quite enough to carry.

It was about half-past nine when we started from the _auberge_; and
after a short mount in the full sun, we were not sorry to reach the
pleasant shade of walnut trees which accompanied us for a considerable
distance. The blue lake lay at our feet on the right, and beyond it the
Niesen stood, with wonted grandeur, guarding its subject valleys; more
in front, as we ascended transversely, the well-known snow-peaks of the
Bernese Oberland glittered high above the nearer foreground, and, sheer
above us, on the left, rose the ragged precipices whose flank we were to
turn. The Rothhorn of the Canton Berne lies inland from the Lake of
Thun, and sends down towards the lake a ridge sufficiently loft