As the boat glides up to the dock, the ancient castle, built in the twelfth century, is pointed out. Its walls and towers are very massive, and bid fair to stand as long as the city endures. Near the castle is a chateau, where, at one time, Joseph Bonaparte lived. It is now the property of the Moravians, and all its former grandeur is sunk in the abysses of a boys' school. Just opposite the town the Jura mountains have entirely changed in appearance, and are full of strange, fantastic peaks and crags, while Mt. Blanc, always visible, presents different faces as the boat changes its course, always, however, grand and fascinating. [Sidenote: RURAL SWITZERLAND.] [Illustration: SWISS TIMBER VILLAGE.] CHAPTER XXXIII. FROM GENEVA OVER THE ALPS. A short drive over one of those wonderfully hard, smooth roads that make carriage traveling in Switzerland so delightful, and we are at the hotel at the Gorge du Trient, whence, early in the morning, we are to begin the ascent of the mountains. The time before dinner is occupied in an exploration of the wildly picturesque gorge, with its winding foot-bridge built alongside the cliffs, over yawning chasms, around jutting bowlders that rise to such a height that the sky seems like a strip of blue ribbon suspended high above our heads. At the bottom of the gorge a mountain torrent, springing from some unknown nook way up in the mountain, comes rushing and tumbling down over the jagged rocks, foaming and whirling, and dashing its spray high in the air, as it hurries along to join the Rhone. The slender bridge, at times hanging apparently without any support over deep pools of water, seems too fragile to bear the weight of a person, and one treads lightly, lest the frail structure give way, and he be precipitated into the unfathomable abyss below. The gorge is about three-quarters of a mile long, and is wierdly picturesque. [Sidenote: MOUNTAIN CLIMBING.] After dinner, some rash member of the party suggested that we do a little mountain climbing. Then a wager was immediately laid that no one had the courage and endurance to go to the summit of a high peak near by. Of course the challenge was accepted, and the whole party, there were three ladies and five gentlemen, all started to accomplish the easy feat. It looked easy. The path zigzagged up the hill, and [Illustration: THE SLENDER BRIDGE.] was provided with resting places at stated intervals. Nothing could be more delightful than to skip merrily along, like chamois, clear to the summit. It was all very well for the first few hundred feet, and we laughed and vowed that mountain climbing was not such a terrible affair, after all. But at the first resting place two of the gentlemen and one of the ladies announced that they were subject to heart disease, and dare not go any farther. They _could_ do it, but it was a duty they owed to their families and the world at large not to tempt death. [Illustration: A BIT OF CLIMBING.]