THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
directly that he was of that fraternity himself. After dark he accompanied us part of the way, and then instructed us how we could avoid contact with all the customs officers and reach the Swiss village of Schönebühl, where we would find, at a certain minutely described spot, a barn which would probably be open, and where we would have a good night's rest on the stored hay. We followed the advice, and about midnight we reached the barn and stretched ourselves out to sleep.
Soon after sunrise we were on our feet again and inquired of some peasants, who seemed to be going to their work, the road to Bern—for I had heard in Strasburg that Anneke and the other friends whom I wished to join were in that city. The road led us first through fertile valleys. The fields teemed with men and women busy gathering their crops. I remember well the emotion experienced on that march. It was a joyful picture I beheld, but again and again the thought arose in me, “How much happier those toilers are than I! When they have done their hard work they return to their homes. They have a home, and I have none.” I could not get rid of those somber reflections until we reached the Münsterthal, that magnificent cleft in the Jura Mountains. After a short rest I could not restrain the desire to take a look directly at the high Alps. So we climbed up the Monto, which rises to an elevation of about 4000 feet, and there we beheld for the first time in the distance the marvelous sublimity of the snowy mountain heads. It was a strange, invigorating and inspiring sight.
In a deep valley, on the other side of the Monto, we stopped at a wayside tavern, in which we found an intelligent-looking man, and a boy, who were refreshing themselves with wine and bread and cheese. The man, when we asked for the road and the distances from place to place, informed us kindly that he lived at Bern and was just enjoying a little
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