He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. 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. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. He understood.
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