In the mountains on both sides of the valley there was a constant rumbling and thudding, echoing from one slope to another, of woodcutters who were cutting huge trees and throwing them down over rocks and cliffs. In the silent misty night it made a horrid tumult, when the timber clattered down icy slopes and rocks, and often started piles of timber off again, so that one might have thought whole mountains were falling. From the direction of the Glarus country the dear sun finally broke through, so that I could see the Glarner Riesengebirge. But the sly north wind blew so sharp and strong that it cut to the marrow of my bones and stiffened me all over. In the end I was heartily glad to reach the dwelling of my dear business partner

172

, where I had excellent lodging and spent the evening very pleasantly with his amiable family. He is a well-educated, well-read friend of mankind, who possesses much knowledge of the world and its inhabitants.

In the night I heard the sly north wind rattle at the shutters and prophesied to myself that the morning would be still more horridly cold. In the narrow valley of Glarus, where I expected to find mostly a south wind, this north wind seemed like a foreigner to me. But people told me it was not so very unusual. When day broke the first thing I did was to stand at the window and physiognomise the wind and the fog. Full of wonder I saw the wind playing round the mountain peaks and playing with the fog round the rocky cliffs. I thought it was certain to bring rough weather and snow. But the men of Glarus told me that it meant settled weather.

After enjoying my breakfast and transacting a few business matters I set out for home again. The north wind blew against me in all its wrath. Over my head I saw against the mountains how the mist flew southwards, then northwards again. Often I stopped to watch this unusual spectacle. I saw that the south and north winds had joined battle, and I could follow it clearly by the fog as it flew to and fro against the mountains. On the side by Näfels whole squadrons of grey fog stormed down on the Wiggis, while on the other side near Mollis they had taken flight and flew down the mountain, and crept sideways into the Querloch, over the lake of Wallenstatt. My eyes could hardly take in all the scenes of this battle. Behind me in the Glarus valleys it was constantly bright clear weather. I could see clearly that Herr South Wind was master there. But at Urnen, at the entrance to the valley, Herr North Wind was attacking strongly [...] Herr South Wind withdrew, not as one defeated, but as giving way to superior force and waiting for a favourable moment.

I went on my way, thinking of nothing but to making an early escape from the kingdom of Herr North Wind. I speculated about this as I went. I thought that perhaps those warring elements in which we human beings live have passed on to us a taste for war. [...] There are all kinds of war

172

Probably Johannes Zwicky-Stäger. [Chronik, p 361]

Contents