was a roof over my head, and shelter from the night-cold!” My friend had already taken a room at Rhigi Scheideck.
Now, therefore, we calmly gave ourselves up to the contemplation of the grand scene. This is, as every body knows, the most extensive in the world, but not exactly in the sense which I call magnificent and beautiful. You behold the earth spread out like a map beneath your feet, and the gigantic Alps seem like small white sugar mountain summits, around the horizon.
But now commenced the grand spectacle of the sun's departure from earth; and here, it was a scene of wonderful pomp and beauty. The hundred guests stood in innumerable groups upon the wide plateau, and beheld with us the splendid show, but less silently than we did. The many-colored mass of people, their various physiognomies, their restlessness and noise, was a picture in itself, by no means without interest to the looker-on.
But now an Alpine horn sounds with trumpet-like clangor to announce that the sun has descended, that the scene is at an end, and that people can go to supper. The hundred, therefore, come into hasty movement, and stream down singly, or in groups, towards the hotel. Anon, the great table is occupied. People eat and drink, and chatter and laugh. A band of Tyrolese play “table-music,” sing and joddle. I hastily swallowed some bread and butter, and a cup of tea, and then hurried forth again, and up the heights, knowing that I should now behold something
- Vol. I—10
