"The Dutchman was right, after all. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders.
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