Here Jakob, whose
service went no further, conducted me to the "Pike" inn, and begged the
landlady to furnish me with "_a' Ma'_" in his place. We had refreshments
together, and took leave with many shakings of the hand and mutual
wishes of good luck. The successor was an old fellow of seventy, who had
been a soldier in Holland, and who with proper exertion could make his
speech intelligible. The people nowhere inquired after my business or
nationality. When the guide made the latter known, they almost
invariably said, "But, of course, you were born in Appenzell?" The idea
of a traveller coming among them, at least during this season of the
year, did not enter their heads. In Teufen, the large and handsome
houses, the church and schools, led me, foolishly, to hope for a less
barbarous dialect; but no, it was the same thing everywhere.

The men in black, with swords under their arms, increased in number as
we left the village. They were probably from the farthest parts of the
Canton, and were thus abridging the morrow's journey. The most of them,
however, turned aside from the road, and made their way to one
farm-house or another. I was tempted to follow their example, as I
feared that the little village of Hundwyl would be crowded. But there
was still time to claim private hospitality, even if this should be the
case, so we marched steadily down the valley. The Sitter, a stream fed
by the Sentis, now roared below us, between high, rocky walls, which are
spanned by an iron bridge, two hundred feet above the water. The roads
of Outer-Rhoden, built and kept in order by the people, are most
admirable. This little population of forty-eight thousand souls has
within the last fifteen years expended seven hundred thousand dollars on
means of communication. Since the people govern themselves, and regulate
their expenses, and consequently their taxation, their willingness to
bear such a burden is a lesson to other lands.

After crossing the airy bridge, our road climbed along the opposite side
of the _Tobel_, to a village on a ridge thrust out from the foot of the
Hundwyl Alp, beyond which we lost sight of Teufen and the beautiful
valley of the Sitter. We were now in the valley of the Urnaesch, and a
walk of two miles more brought us to the village of Hundwyl. I was
encouraged, on approaching the little place, by seeing none except the
usual signs of occupation. There was a great new tank before the
fountain, and two or three fel