This dreadful catastrophe also levied its tribute among the strangers whom the beauties of Alpine scenery annually attract to Switzerland. A party of tourists had left Arth in the afternoon with the intention of spending the night in Schwyz. Part of the company had already entered the ill-fated village of Goldau, and the others were about to follow, when suddenly the thundering roar of the sliding mountain caused them to stop. Looking up and seeing rocks, forests, huts, all rushing down in horrible confusion, they instinctively ran back for their lives. The warning came not one instant too soon, for close behind the spot where they stopped panting for breath, the stones still fell like hail. But their unfortunate companions, the wife and daughter of Baron Diesbach, Colonel Victor von Steiger, and some boys, whose tutor had been slowly following them with the Baron, were buried beneath the ruins. From the Righi the traveller still looks down upon the avalanche of stones, and the flank of the Rossberg still plainly shows the spot where, more than half a century ago, the masses of rock now reposing in the valley detached themselves from the mountain. But the beautifying hand of vegetation has already done much to adorn the scene of ruin. Green mosses have woven their soft carpet over the naked stones, while grasses and flowers, and in some places even shrubs and trees, have sprung up between them. The tears also which once were shed over the victims of the great catastrophe have long since been dried, and its last witnesses have passed away to make room for a new generation, who remember the mountain-slip which buried their fathers only as a legend of the past. This terrible disaster, however appalling through the far-spread desolation it entailed, has yet been equalled or surpassed by others of a like nature. In the fifth century, the old Roman town of Velleja was buried under the ruins of the Ravinazzo Mountain, and the bones and coins dug out of its ancient site prove that no time was left to the inhabitants for flight. Tauretunum was once a flourishing Roman town, situated on the south bank of the lake of Geneva, at the foot of the Dent d’Oche. In 563 it was utterly destroyed by a disruption of the overhanging mountain. The avalanche of stones which at that time was hurled down upon the devoted city is still visible as a promontory projecting far into the lake, which is here at least 500 feet deep. The immense wave caused by the rocky mass as it plunged into the water inundated the opposite shore from Morges to Vevay, and swept away every homestead that lay on its path.