Our excursion to the Glaciers was arranged for eight o’clock, and the conveyance that we had ordered the day before stood at the door of our hotel, a mountain chariot with horses jingling with bells. We set off in the gayest of spirits. Our driver cracked his whip, and away rolled the carriage. Soon we were hurrying along the valley road, and passed meadows strewn with wild flowers. We took three hours to mount to the Hotel Eiger. On our way we met peasant girls with loaded baskets on their heads. On the slopes villagers in large straw hats were cutting down the grass, and women in bright-coloured skirts were working in the potato-fields. Here comes a procession of carts laden with blocks of ice procured from the Glaciers, dragged by patient sad-eyed oxen. In the distance the echo of an alpine horn and the cries of some peasants resounded. We overtook a peasant woman jolted like a basket on the back of her mule. After a mile or two the road began to mount, and our tender-hearted driver climbed down from the seat and walked at the horses’ heads, driving off the troublesome flies which stuck to his steeds. We crossed a tidy little village consisting of but one straggling street. The roofs of the houses are covered with lathings, with big stones laid over them, in order that the wind should not scatter them about. Behind the rusty gates flaxen-haired children stared at us. On the front of a tavern we saw the picture of a bear with the pleasant inscription, “_Lait Frais_,” written underneath. Close by, on the front of an hostelry, we read, “_Les voyageurs qui descendent chez nous seront contents_”—(The tourists who put up at our house will be contented.) A year ago there was fearful damage done in the valley we were driving through, a huge block of rock fell down from the cliffs and hurled itself into the valley, destroying a house which was taken clear away. We had to pass that square stone that looked like a monument in the middle of the road. We wanted to stop before a wicket with a finger-post pointing to it with the inscription “_La Chute Noire, 25 centimes par personne_” but our driver said it was not worth while as we could see this same Chine at free cost a few paces off.