Rollo in Geneva

The boat at one time came very near drifting against one of the great water wheels which were revolving in the stream. Gerald perceived the danger just in time, and he contrived to turn the head of the boat out towards the centre of the river, and then commanding Rollo and the Swiss boy to row, and pulling, himself, with all his force, he just succeeded in escaping the danger.

By this time the boat had passed by the town, and it now came to a part of the river which was bordered by smooth, grassy banks on each side, and with a row of willows growing near the margin of the water. This was the place, in fact, where Rollo had walked along the shore with his mother, in going down to visit the junction of the Rhone and the Arve.

"Now," said Gerald, "here is a chance for us to make a landing. I'll head her in towards the shore."

So Gerald turned the head of the boat in towards the bank, and then, by dint of hard rowing, the boys contrived gradually to draw nearer and nearer to the shore, though they were all the time drifting rapidly down. At last the boat came so near that the bow was just ready to touch the bank, and then Gerald seized the painter, and, watching his opportunity, leaped ashore, and, running to the nearest willow, wound the painter round it. This at once checked the motion of the bow, and caused the stern to swing round. Gerald immediately unwound the painter, and ran to the willow next below, where he wound it round again, and there succeeded at last in making it fast, and stopping the motion of the boat altogether. Rollo and the Swiss boy then made their escape safe to land.

"There!" said Rollo, taking at the same time a high jump, to express his exultation; "there! Here we are safe, and who cares?"

"Ah!" said Gerald, calmly; "it is very easy to say Who cares? now that we have got safe to land; but you'll find me looking out sharp not to get sucked into those ripples again."

So the boys went home. Gerald found a man to go down and bring back the boat, while Rollo proceeded to the hotel, to report the affair to his father and mother. Mrs. Holiday was very much alarmed, but Mr. Holiday seemed to take the matter quite coolly. He said he thought that Rollo was now, for all the rest of his life, in much less danger of being drowned by getting carried down rapids in a river than he was before.

"He understands the subject now somewhat practically," said Mr. Holiday.

The term of Mr. Holiday's visit had now expired, and the arrangements were to be made for leaving town, with a view of returning again to Paris. Rollo, however, was very desirous that before going back to Paris they should make at least a short excursion among the mountains.

"Where shall we go?" said his father.

"To the valley of Chamouni," said Rollo. "They say that that is the prettiest place in all Switzerland."

"How long will it take us to go?" asked Mr. Holiday.

"We can go in a day," said Rollo. "There are plenty of diligences. The offices of them are here all along the quay.

"Or, if you don't choose to go so far in a day," continued Rollo, "you can go in half a day to the entrance of the valley, where there is a good place to stop, and then we can go to Chamouni the next day. I have studied it all out in the guide book."

"Very well," said Mr. Holiday. "It seems that we can get into the valley of Chamouni very easily; and now how is it about getting out?"

At this question Rollo's countenance fell a little, and he replied that it was not so easy to get out.

"There is no way to get out," said he, "except to go over the mountains, unless we come back the same way we go in."

"That would not be quite so pleasant," said Mr. Holiday.

"No, sir," said Rollo; "it would be better to go out some new way. But there is not any way. It is a long, narrow valley, very high up among the mountain glaciers. There is a way to get out at the upper end, but it is only a mountain pass, and we should have to ride over on mules. But you could ride on a mule—could not you, father?"

"Why, yes," said Mr. Holiday, "perhaps I could; but it might be too fatiguing for your mother. She has not been accustomed to ride on horseback much of late years.

"Besides," he continued, "I suppose that as it is a mountain pass, the road must be pretty steep and difficult."

"Yes, sir," said Rollo; "it is steep some part of the way. You have to go up for half an hour by zigzags—right up the side of the mountain. I read about it in the guide book. Then, after we get up to the top of the pass, we have a monstrous long way to go down. We have to go down for two hours, as steep as we can go."

"I should think we should have to go up as much as down," said Mr. Holiday; "for it is necessary to ascend as much to get to the top of any hill from the bottom as you descend in going down to the bottom from the top."

"Ah, but in Chamouni," said Rollo, "we are very near the top already. It is a valley, it is true; but it is up very high among the mountains, and is surrounded with snow and glaciers. That is what makes it so interesting to go there. Besides, we can see the top of Mont Blanc there, and with a spy glass we can watch the people going up, as they walk along over the fields of snow."

"Well," said Mr. Holiday, "I should like to go there very well, if your mother consents; and then, if she does not feel adventurous enough to go over the mountain pass on a mule, we can, at all events, come back the same way we go."

"Yes, sir," said Rollo; "and, besides, father," he continued, eagerly, "there is another way that we can do. Mother can go over the mountain pass on a carrying chair. They have carrying chairs there, expressly to carry ladies over the passes. They are good, comfortable chairs, with poles each side of them, fastened very strong. The lady sits in the chair, and then two men take hold of the poles, one before and the other behind, and so they carry her over the mountains."

"I should think that would be very easy and very comfortable," said Mr. Holiday. "Go and find your mother, and explain it all to her, and hear what she says. Tell her what sort of a place Chamouni is, and what there is to be seen there, and then tell her of the different ways there will be of getting out when once we get in. If she would like it we will go."

Mrs. Holiday did like the plan of going to Chamouni very much. She said she thought that she could go over the mountain pass on a mule; and that at any rate she could go on the carrying chair. So the excursion was decided upon, and the party set off the next day.

And here I must end the story of Rollo at Geneva, only adding that it proved in the end that the fifteen franc pin which Rollo bought, and the destination of which he made a secret of, was intended for his mother. He kept the pin in his trunk until he returned to America, and then sent it into his mother's room, with a little note, one morning when she was there alone. His mother kept the pin a great many years, and wore it a great many times; and she said she valued it more than any other ornament she had, though she had several in her little strong box that had cost in money fifty times as much.

1

Pronounced coupay.

2

Bureau is the French word meaning office; and English people, when travelling in France, fall into the habit of using the word in that sense.

3

Such a frock is called a blouse—pronounced blooze. Almost all working men in France wear them. Hence the class of workmen in France are sometimes called the blouses.

4

The diligence is very large. It has four separate compartments. For a more full account of the construction of the vehicle, and for one or two engravings representing it, see Rollo's Tour in Switzerland.

5

The phrase is, in French, Pour voir le Mont Blanc s'eteindre.