There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. It’s a world of dirt and skin diseases and parasites. Anyhow, that is how things are. "A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of the head. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. I want you.
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