in many places mortised together. We find no trace of cement, a fact
disproving the hypothesis that the wall may have been of Roman origin. We
must doubtless go much farther back, and associate these primitive
builders with such relics of prehistoric times as the stones of Carnac
and Lokmariaker. And not to seek so wide for analogies, do we not see
here the handiwork of the same rude architects I have before alluded to
in my Vosges travels, who flung a stone bridge across the forest gorge
above Remiremont and raised in close proximity the stupendous monolith of
Kirlinkin? The prehistoric stone monuments scattered about these regions
are as yet new to the English archaeologist, and form one of the most
interesting features of Vosges and Alsatian travel.

We may follow these lightly superimposed blocks of stone for miles, and
the _enceinte_ has been traced round the entire plateau, which was
thus defended from enemies on all sides. As we continue our walk on the
inner side of the wall we get lovely views of the dim violet hills, the
vast golden plain, and, close underneath, luxuriant forests. Eagles are
flying hither and thither, and except for an occasional tourist or two,
the scene is perfectly solitary. An hour's walk brings us to the
Menelstein, a vast and lofty platform of stone, ascended by a stair, both
untouched by the hand of man. Never was a more formidable redoubt raised
by engineering skill. Nature here helped her primitive builders well.
From a terrace due to the natural formation of the rock, we obtain
another of those grand and varied panoramas so numerous in this part of
the world, but the beauty nearer at hand is more enticing. Nothing can
exceed the freshness and charm of our homeward walk. We are now no longer
following the wall, but free to enjoy the breezy, heather-scented
plateau, and the broken, romantic outline of St. Odile, the Wartburg of
Alsace, as the saint herself was its Holy Elizabeth, and with as romantic
a story for those with a taste for such legends.