“You may well be proud of your country, Herr H----,” exclaimed Mr. C---- from the other carriage. “I always look on that tiny spot with deep reverence as the true cradle of freedom. Look at it well, George! It witnessed that wonderful oath by which these mountaineers bound themselves ‘to be faithful to each other, just and merciful to their oppressors’--the only known example of men--and these men peasants, too--binding themselves, in the excitement of revolt, not to take revenge on their oppressors.” “Quite sublime!” ejaculated George. “Well, it has borne good fruit,” returned Herr H---- in gleeful tones; “for here we are still free! Except on the one occasion of the French in ’98, no foreign troops have ever invaded this part of Switzerland since those days. Yes, there are three springs at the Rütli, supposed to have jutted forth where the three heroes stood; but I do not pledge my word for that,” he answered smilingly to Caroline, “nor for the legend which says that their spirits sleep in the rocky vale under Seelisberg, ready to come forth and lead the people in moments of danger.” “I hope their slumbers may never be disturbed,” she replied; “but I wish some one would prevent these cattle from frightening the horses,” as a large drove swept past our carriages, making our steeds nervous. Splendid animals they were, with beautiful heads, straight backs, light limbs, and of a grayish mouse color. “All of the celebrated Schwytz breed,” said Herr H----. “This part of the country is renowned for its cattle. Each of these probably cost from five to six hundred francs. The Italians take great advantage of this new road, and come in numbers to buy them at this season, when the cattle are returning from the mountains. These are going across the St. Gothard to Lombardy. Those of Einsiedeln are still considered the best. Do you remember, Miss Caroline, that the first mention of German authority in this land was occasioned by a dispute between the shepherds of Schwytz and the abbots of Einsiedeln about their pasturage--the emperor having given a grant of land to the abbey, while the Schwytzers had never heard of his existence even, and refused to obey his majesty’s orders?” “Ah! what historical animals: that quite reconciles me to them,” she answered, as we drove on again amongst a group that seemed very uneasy under their new masters, whose sweet language George averred had no power over them. Who can describe the exquisite beauty of our drive?--winding in and out, sometimes through a tunnel; at others along the edge of the high precipice from which a low parapet alone separated us; at another passing through the village of Sisikon, which years ago suffered severely from a fragment of rock fallen from the Frohnalp above. Time flew rapidly, and one hour and a half had glided by, without our perceiving it, when we drew up before the beautiful little inn of “Tell’s Platte.”