They seem little interested in
anything; and no wonder, with their hard fight with Nature. Below is a
wine-shop, with a little side booth, in which some German travelers
sit drinking their wine, and sputtering away in harsh gutturals. The
inn is very neat inside, and we are well served. Stalden is high; but
away above it on the opposite side is a village on the steep slope,
with a slender white spire that rivals some of the snowy needles.
Stalden is high, but the hill on which it stands is rich in grass. The
secret of the fertile meadows is the most thorough irrigation. Water
is carried along the banks from the river, and distributed by numerous
sluiceways below; and above, the little mountain streams are brought
where they are needed by artificial channels. Old men and women in the
fields were constantly changing the direction of the currents. All the
inhabitants appeared to be porters: women were transporting on their
backs baskets full of soil; hay was being backed to the stables;
burden-bearers were coming and going upon the road: we were told that
there are only three horses in the place. There is a pleasant girl who
brings us luncheon at the inn; but the inhabitants for the most part
are as hideous as those we see all day: some have hardly the shape of
human beings, and they all live in the most filthy manner in the
dirtiest habitations.
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