At five o'clock the shrill blasts of a Swiss horn roused every sleeper, and wrapt in blankets or whatever they could easiest lay their hands upon, a motley crew hastened to see the sun rise from the Kulm, or summit. The morning air was clear as crystal, cold, and invigorating,--all augured well. Not a cloud, not a misty wreath, not a speck studded the blue arch of heaven. It was not darkness nor shadow, but a clear obscurity that hung like a veil over nature; beneath, the lakes were like a black mirror, the valleys dark; around, the snowy Alps were clearly defined against the sky, and not a vestige of fog nor mist lay on their sides; even Mont Pilate had for once dropped his cloudy cap, and his sharp forehead of rocks was cut out against the dark firmament. Above hung the morning star, and a thin silver thread, the waning moon was dropping behind distant Jungfrau. About fifty people, among whom we recognize Ellen and her father, watched for the sun with all the earnestness of the Ghebers hastening to pay their morning devotions to the god of day. Soon a growing brightness tinted the east where the hills were lowest; and now it was no longer to the east, but to the giant Alps of the Bernese chain westward that every eye is turned, for there will be seen the first streak with which Pallantias' finger shall stain nature. Soon the highest peak of the Bernese giants catches the first rosy pink of dawn--then alp after alp owns the blush of day, and flashes back the golden glory, and as the sun himself wheels above the hills his beams are cast lower and lower; ridge after ridge grows bright; even gloomy Pilate smiles in his ray, and the valleys beneath with rivers, woods, and plains become more and more distinct, till they burst into sunshine, and then the whole panorama above and below revels in the warm beams, from the mighty Eiger, giant of Bern, to the lakes from which mists now rise, and float like wool far beneath. After a parting gaze our friends, in common with others, left the Kulm, and after partaking of a cheerful breakfast, descended on the other side of the Rigi to Weggis, where again they took a boat and rowed to the summit of the lake, whose scenery grew still grander and more romantic as they passed Tell's lovely chapel, and neared Fluellen, where they took an early table d'hote, being desirous of hurrying forward to the Hospenthal that day.