A TRAMP ABROAD By Mark Twain

twelve o’clock noon, and a breezy, cloudless day;

the ascent was gradual, and the glimpses, from under

the curtaining boughs, of blue water, and tiny sailboats,

and beetling cliffs, were as charming as glimpses of dreamland.

All the circumstances were perfect–and the anticipations,

too, for we should soon be enjoying, for the first time,

that wonderful spectacle, an Alpine sunrise–the object

of our journey. There was (apparently) no real need

for hurry, for the guide-book made the walking-distance

from Wa”ggis to the summit only three hours and a quarter.

I say “apparently,” because the guide-book had already

fooled us once–about the distance from Allerheiligen

to Oppenau–and for aught I knew it might be getting ready

to fool us again. We were only certain as to the altitudes–

we calculated to find out for ourselves how many hours

it is from the bottom to the top. The summit is six

thousand feet above the sea, but only forty-five hundred

feet above the lake. When we had walked half an hour,

we were fairly into the swing and humor of the undertaking,

so we cleared for action; that is to say, we got a boy whom

we met to carry our alpenstocks and satchels and overcoats

and things for us; that left us free for business.

I suppose we must have stopped oftener to stretch out

on the grass in the shade and take a bit of a smoke

than this boy was used to, for presently he asked if it

had been our idea to hire him by the job, or by the year?

We told him he could move along if he was in a hurry.

He said he wasn’t in such a very particular hurry,

but he wanted to get to the top while he was young.

We told him to clear out, then, and leave the things at

the uppermost hotel and say we should be along presently.

He said he would secure us a hotel if he could, but if they

were all full he would ask them to build another one

and hurry up and get the paint and plaster dry against

we arrived. Still gently chaffing us, he pushed ahead,

up the trail, and soon disappeared. By six o’clock we

were pretty high up in the air, and the view of lake

and mountains had greatly grown in breadth and interest.

We halted awhile at a little public house, where we

had bread and cheese and a quart or two of fresh milk,

out on the porch, with the big panorama all before us–and

then moved on again.

Ten minutes afterward we met a hot, red-faced man plunging

down the mountain, making mighty strides, swinging his

alpenstock ahead of him, and taking a grip on the ground

with its iron point to support these big strides.

He stopped, fanned himself with his hat, swabbed the

perspiration from his face and neck with a red handkerchief,

panted a moment or two, and asked how far to Wa”ggis.

I said three hours. He looked surprised, and said:

“Why, it seems as if I could toss a biscuit into the lake

from here, it’s so close by. Is that an inn, there?”

I said it was.

“Well,” said he, “I can’t stand another three hours,

I’ve had enough today; I’ll take a bed there.”

I asked:

“Are we nearly to the top?”

“Nearly to the TOP?” Why, bless your soul, you haven’t

really started, yet.”

I said we would put up at the inn, too. So we turned

back and ordered a hot supper, and had quite a jolly

evening of it with this Englishman.

The German landlady gave us neat rooms and nice beds,

and when I and my agent turned in, it was with the resolution

to be up early and make the utmost of our first Alpine sunrise.

But of course we were dead tired, and slept like policemen;

so when we awoke in the morning and ran to the window it

was already too late, because it was half past eleven.

It was a sharp disappointment. However, we ordered

breakfast and told the landlady to call the Englishman,

but she said he was already up and off at daybreak–and