diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-25 06:28:30 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-25 06:28:30 -0800 |
| commit | da82e81568001b3841bdde53c8427fae9090c700 (patch) | |
| tree | a66983ddb619eb959ccdbe42ebcf71f1446361aa | |
| parent | 122804c6a9bbc2523d85bfedda2dfd45ff372a3a (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-0.txt | 6248 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-0.zip | bin | 138934 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-h.zip | bin | 794387 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-h/69546-h.htm | 6483 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 166855 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-h/images/img-008.jpg | bin | 275626 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69546-h/images/img-152.jpg | bin | 202324 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 17 insertions, 12731 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3af7c81 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69546 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69546) diff --git a/old/69546-0.txt b/old/69546-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7a9a24d..0000000 --- a/old/69546-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6248 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Together, by Norman Douglas - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Together - -Author: Norman Douglas - -Release Date: December 15, 2022 [eBook #69546] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, Chuck Greif & the online Distributed - Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOGETHER *** - - - - - - - TOGETHER - - BY - NORMAN DOUGLAS - - “_And he said unto me, Son of man, - can these bones live? And I answered, - O Lord God, thou knowest._” - EZEKIEL xxxvii. 3. - - - NEW YORK - ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY - 1923 - - Copyright, 1923, by - ROBERT M. MCBRIDE & CO. - - - _Printed in the - United States of America_ - - - Published, 1923 - - TO - - ARCHIE AND ROBIN - - FROM THEIR FATHER - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - -INTRODUCTION 1 - -THE BRUNNENMACHER 19 - -TIEFIS 35 - -LUTZ FOREST 51 - -BLUMENEGG 69 - -FATHER BRUHIN 89 - -RAIN 105 - -ANTS 121 - -GAMSBODEN 141 - -JORDAN CASTLE 161 - -ROSENEGG 177 - -VALDUNA 193 - -OLD ANNA 211 - -SCHLINS 227 - -INDEX 247 - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -_Introduction_ - - -It rains. - -It has rained ever since our arrival in this green Alpine village; -rained not heavily but with a grim Scotch persistence--the kind of -drizzle that will tempt some old Aberdonian, sitting unconcernedly in -soaking grass by the wayside, to look up and remark: “The roads is -something saft.” Are we going to have a month of _Landregen_, as they -call it? No matter. Anything for fresh air; anything to escape from the -pitiless blaze of the South, and from those stifling nights when your -bedroom grows into a furnace, its walls exuding inwardly all the fiery -beams they have sucked up during the endless hours of noon. Let it rain! - -Little I thought ever to become a guest in this tavern, familiar as it -is to me from olden days. They have made us extremely comfortable. -Nothing is amiss, nothing lacking. Our rooms are large and well -furnished. Certain preliminary operations were of course necessary in -regard to the beds. Away first of all with the _Keilpolster_, that -wedge-shaped horror; away next with the _Plumeau_, another invention of -the devil. And breakfast always up here please, for both of us, in my -room, at half-past seven; seeing that work begins at eight sharp. Not -less than a litre of milk for my friend, and two eggs; he is a -milk-and-egg maniac. I am past his stage, though still young enough to -revel in that delicious raspberry jelly. Why is it almost unknown in -England? - -On one side of my room hangs an oleograph which depicts a gay sportsman -aiming at some chamois from behind a tree at twenty-five yards’ -distance; such luck never came my way. The picture on the further side -is still more suggestive--three roe-deer, hotly pursued by a dachshund; -a pug-dog would have an equal chance of success. Cheerful pictures of -this kind should hang in every room. I shall look at them whenever I -feel jaundiced. Our tavern by the way is famous for its dachshunds. They -have a couple of thoroughbreds, with faces like orchids, who eat and -sleep most of the day and whose descendants are rapidly stocking the -neighborhood. Their numerous progeny drop in for a visit from the -remotest villages, and are coldly received by the parents. Just now the -gentleman is asleep and his spouse, not for the first time, indulging in -an agitated flirtation with one of her own remote descendants who has -not yet found a home for himself: a very bad example to the rest of -us.... - -Through the silvery curtain of drizzle I glance eastwards and recognize -the old, old view, the earliest that ever greeted my eyes; for our -nursery windows, up yonder, looked also towards the rising sun, and -once, not in the day but late at night, I was lifted out of bed and -placed on the window-sill to behold a wondrous thing--the sky all -a-glister with livid rays. This aurora borealis is my first memory of -life and the apparition must have been recorded in the newspapers of the -day, since it was the only “Nordlicht” ever seen, to my knowledge, in -the country; the vexed question, therefore, of a man’s earliest memory -could be settled, so far as I am concerned, if one had the energy to -hunt up the files. There, confronting me on its hillock, stands the -church with red-topped steeple. During the war, the authorities carried -off the four bells to be melted down; three new ones have since been -purchased at Innsbruck. They chime pleasantly enough, but not quite the -same as of yore. One would like to hear the old ones again, for memory’s -sake, after all these years. How gayly they used to tremble on the air -at midday, while one roamed about the hills at the back of the house. -And how one rushed down to be in time for luncheon, seated on a -fir-branch; an excellent method of progression on steep, slippery -meadows, provided there be no stones or wasps’ nests on the track. One -day, long ago, we three slid in this fashion and at a breathless speed -down the never-ending slopes of the Furkla alp above Bludenz. Nothing -happened till about half-way, when the eldest felt a jolt, a slight -cavity in the ground, and called out to me to beware. It was too late; I -was pitched in and out again. My sister who followed, carrying less -weight, came to rest there. The cavity was a wasps’ nest. Eight -stings.... - -And the church is backed by a mountain called Hoher Frassen; even at -this distance one can detect a belt of green stretching across its -middle near the scattered houses of Ludescherberg; wonderful, what -manure will do! Everybody goes up the Hoher Frassen (_vulgo_ -Pfannenknecht) on account of the view, which is remarkable considering -its low elevation of not even two thousand meters, though personally, if -one must climb places like this, I should prefer the Mondspitze or -Hochgerach. You can ascend in early morning from Bludenz or anywhere -else, catch a glimpse of the Rhine and Lake Constance and snow peaks -innumerable--of half this small province of Vorarlberg, in fact--and be -home again in time for a late luncheon. Near the top is the now -inevitable hut for the convenience of fat tourists. Cows pasture about -the summit among the Alpine roses and dwarf pines.[1] Here, at the -right season, you may capture as many Apollo butterflies as you please. -A little boy and girl, scrambling homeward one day from this summit, -dislodged with infinite trouble a huge bowlder and, while somebody was -not looking, sent it on a career of delirious leaps down the incline -above Raggal village. Such was its momentum after a couple of hundred -yards that it went clean through a hay-hut, empty but solid, tossing its -wooden blocks into the air as if they were feathers. The destruction of -some poor peasant’s property was considered a great joke. We laughed -over it for weeks and weeks. - -On the other side of our valley one can discern, despite the rain, those -peaks of the Rhætikon group. They have been powdered with freshly fallen -snow almost down to the Kloster alp, where cows are grazing at this -moment. The Kloster alp, on which I have passed many nights with no -companion save a rifle, is forever memorable in my annals as being the -spot where, at the age of six, I smoked my first cigar. We were on an -excursion and somebody--the little Dr. Zimmermann, I daresay, the blithe -veterinary surgeon--gave me, doubtless at my repeated and urgent -solicitation, a long black Virginia, a so-called rat’s tail, the -strongest weed manufactured by the Austrian Government. Delighted with -my luck, I puffed through an inch or so. Then, without any warning, -death and darkness compassed me about. Death and darkness! The world was -turned inside out; so was I. Not for several weeks did I try tobacco -again; this time only a cigarette and in a more appropriate locality; -even that made me rather unhappy. Here, on the cliffs just above the -Kloster alp, you used to be able to gather a bouquet of Edelweiss with -your eyes shut, so to speak; here, among the tumbled fragments of rock -further on, was a numerous colony of marmots. Never, in my -bloodthirstiest days, had I the heart to shoot one of these frolicsome -beasts, whose settlements are scattered over most of our mountains at -the proper elevation. They call them “Burmentli” in our dialect--a -pungent variety of alemannic--and their fat is supposed to cure every -ill that flesh is heir to; it is chiefly on account of this fat that -they have been persecuted in all parts of the Alps, and exterminated in -not a few. Their cheery whistle carries half a mile; if you sit -perfectly motionless, they will creep out of their burrows, one by one, -and frisk and gambol around you. Once, at Christmas, a hunter brought me -a hibernating marmot which he had taken, together with its whole family, -out of winter-quarters. I put it, drowsy but half-awake, into a cold -room, where it immediately rolled itself under a - -[Illustration: Marmot’s skull with malformed teeth] - -bundle of hay. There it slept, week after week. A marmot in this -condition is cold to the touch but not altogether stiff, and Professor -Mangili calculated long ago that during the whole of its six months’ -lethargy it respires only 71,000 times (awake, 72,000 times in two -days)--a veritable death-in-life! Mine displayed no resentment at being -aroused now and then in a warm room; indeed, it behaved with exemplary -meekness and allowed itself to be pinched or caressed or carried about; -but preferred sleeping, and always seemed to say, in the words of the -poet’s sluggard, “You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again.” -When summer came round, we took it back to its old home, where it -trotted off without a word of thanks, as if the past experiences in our -valley had been nothing but a silly dream. - -One would hardly think that marmots ever fed each other, yet a skull in -my collection makes me wonder how this particular animal, an old beast, -can have survived without receiving nourishment from its fellows. It was -shot near St. Gallenkirch in the Montavon valley on September 12th, -1886; and is remarkable since, in consequence of what looks like the -fracture of a single incisor tooth, the lower jaw has been partially and -slowly displaced, shifted to one side of the upper--at the cost, no -doubt, of incessant pain. What happened? All four incisors therewith -became not only useless but an intolerable hindrance; lacking the -necessary attrition, they grew ever longer in mammoth-like curves, and -sharply pointed; the shortest--the injured one, which is still deprived -of enamel at its extremity--measures six and a half centimeters in -length, the longest all but eight; and one of them, in the course of its -circular development, has actually begun to bore into the bone of the -upper jaw. I am not much of a draftsman, but these two sketches will -suffice to give some idea of the freak specimen. A squirrel with -somewhat similar dentition was described in the “Zoologist” (Vol. IX, p. -220). Here was one marmot, at least, who must have been glad when summer -food-problems were over, and it grew cold enough to scuttle downstairs -again for a six months’ rest. And some of them sleep in this fashion for -eight months on end. What a sleep! Why wake up at all? - -Food-problems of our own---- - -They are non-existent. This region has suffered _relatively_ little from -the effects of war; it is a self-supporting district of -peasant-proprietors where nearly every family possesses its own house -and orchard and fields and cattle; the ideal state of affairs. Nothing -is lacking, save tobacco and coffee. To obtain the first, one plagues -friends in England; instead of the second, we have to put up with cocoa, -a costive and slimy abomination which I, at least, will not be able to -endure much longer. Prolonged and confidential talks with the -innkeeper’s wife--his third one, a lively woman from the Tyrol, full of -fun and capability--have already laid down the broad lines of our bill -of fare. I must devour all the old local specialties, to begin with, -over and over again; items such as _Tiroler Knödel_ and _Saueres Nierle_ -and _Rahmschnitzel_ (veal, the lovely Austrian veal, is scarce just now, -but she means to get it) and brook-trout _blau gesotten_ and -_Hasenpfeffer_ and fresh oxtongue with that delicious brown onion sauce, -and _gebaitzter Rehschlegel_ (venison is cheap; three halfpence a pound, -at the present rate of exchange); and, first and foremost, -_Kaiserfleisch_, a dish which alone would repay the trouble of a journey -to this country from the other end of the world, were traveling fifty -times more vexatious than it is. Then: cucumber salad of the only -true--i. e., non-Anglo-Saxon--variety, sprinkled with _paprika_; no soup -without the traditional chives; beetroot with cummin-seed, and beans -with _Bohnenkraut_ (whatever that may be); also things like _Kohlrabi_ -and _Kässpätzle_--malodorous but succulent; above all, those ordinary, -those quite ordinary, _geröstete Kartoffeln_ with onions, one of the few -methods by which the potato, the grossly overrated potato, that marvel -of insipidity, can be made palatable. How comes it that other nations -are unable to produce _geröstete Kartoffeln_? Is it a question of -_Schmalz_? If so, the sooner they learn to make _Schmalz_, the better. -_Pommes lyonnaises_ are a miserable imitation, a caricature. - -In the matter of sweets, we have arranged for _Schmarrn_ with cranberry -compote, and pancakes worthy of the name--that is, without a grain of -flour in them, and _Apfelstrudel_ and--quick! strawberries down from the -hills, several pounds of the aromatic mountain ones, to form those -wonderful open tarts which are brought in straight from the oven and -eaten then and there, hot--if you know what is good. Should the weather -grow sultry, I will also make a point of consuming a bowl of sour milk, -just for the sake of auld lang syne. It may well ruin my stomach, which -has acquired an alcoholic diathesis since those days. - -There! A change of food, at last. - -Whether Mr. R. will take to this diet is another matter. I should be in -despair if he were a true Frenchman, for your Gaul, in this and other -matters, is the most provincial creature in the world; like a peasant, -he can eat nothing save what his grandmother has taught him to think -eatable. Mr. R., luckily for him, is French only from political -necessity. And besides, persons of his age should never be encouraged to -express likes and dislikes in the matter of food; it is apt to make them -capricious or even greedy, and what says the learned Dr. Isaac Watts, -from whom I quoted a moment ago? “The appetite of taste is the first -thing that gets the ascendant in our younger years, and a guard should -be set upon it early.” How true! Nobody is entitled to be captious until -he has reached the canonical age. After that, he has acquired the right -of being not only critical, but as gluttonous as ever he pleases. - -Here, meanwhile, are the latest statistics of our village. It contains -about seven hundred inhabitants, three hundred cows and calves (most of -them on the mountains just now), five taverns, and three _Dorftrottels_ -or idiots, of the genuine Alpine breed. Mr. R. is dying to have a look -at them as soon as the weather clears; and so am I. There is a -fascination about real idiots. They have all the glamour of a -monkey-house, with an additional note of human pathos. - - * * * * * - -A heated discussion after dinner with Mr. R.--one of our usual ones--as -to the right meaning of the English words “still” and “yet” which, like -“anybody” or “somebody,” he refuses to distinguish from each other. On -such occasions, he complains of the needless ambiguity and prolixity of -my language; I retort by some civil remark about the deplorable poverty -of his own. I should explain that I hold certificates as teacher of -French and English, and am in possession of an infallible coaching -method (a family secret) for backward or forward pupils; and that this -is not the first time I have endeavored to instill a little knowledge of -English into the head of Mr. R. who, for all his faults, is a -companionable young fellow with certain brigand-strains in his ancestry -that go well with those in mine (_vide_ Peter Hinedo’s “Genealogy of the -most Ancient and most Noble Family of the Brigantes, or Douglas,” -London, 1754). - -That astonishing French education.... What is one to do with people, -future candidates for government posts, who cannot tell the difference -between an adverb and a conjunction, who, if you ask them to define a -reflexive verb, gaze at you with an air of injured innocence, almost as -if you had asked them to say what is the capital of China, the position -of their own colony of Obok, and whether Chili belongs to Germany or to -Austria? They learn none of these things at school; or if they do, it is -in some infant class where they are forgotten again, promptly and -forever. Instead of this, they are crammed with microscopic details, -under the name of “Littérature,” concerning the lives of all French -writers that ever breathed the air of Heaven, and with a bewildering -mass of worthless physical formulæ, enough to daze the brain of a Gauss. -What Mr. R. does not know about convex lenses and declination needles -and such-like balderdash is not worth knowing; his acquaintance with -every aspect of Molière’s life and works is devastating in its -completeness, and makes me feel positively uncomfortable. Now Molière -was doubtless a fine fellow, but no youngster has any right to know so -much about him. I only wish they had taught him a few elements of -grammar instead.[2] - -It is too late now. He laughs at grammar--a frank, derisory laugh. In -other words, my task is rendered none the easier by his serene -self-confidence. He does not share my view that his English is still -rudimentary, though he admits that it may require “a little polish here -and there.” Everything in the nature of a difficulty or exception to the -rules is an _idiom_--not worth bothering about. He conjugates our few -irregular verbs as if they were regular; go, go’ed, go’ed; find, finded, -finded; and gets in a towering passion, not with me but with the -language, whenever I have to set him right. Their mellow auxiliaries of -“should” and “can” and all the rest of them, so useful, so reputable, so -characteristic of the versatile genius of England, are treated as a -perennial joke; indeed, it is a wretched idiosyncrasy of his to discover -fun in the most abstruse and recondite material. (He nearly died of -laughing the other day, because I told him that the Neanderthal race of -man was less hairy than the _Pithecanthropus erectus_ of Java; and -failed to explain why such a bald scientific statement of fact should -provoke even a smile.) Simple phrases like “Est-ce que l’enfant n’aurait -pas dû acheter le chapeau?” give birth to English renderings that would -send any less patient tutor into convulsions; renderings such as you -might expect from the average Englishman when asked to put into French -“If I had not noticed it, you would not have noticed it either (using -_s’en apercevoir_).” - -To all my suggestions that it might be well to study this or that more -conscientiously, I receive the stereotyped reply “I know my _vocables_”; -as if the possession of an English vocabulary were synonymous with the -possession of English speech. It is perfectly true; he has a fair stock -of words, and nobody would believe what can be done with our language -until he hears it handled by a person who knows his _vocables_ (and -nothing else) after the manner of my pupil; I often tell him that he -could make his fortune in England, on the music-hall stage, with that -outfit alone. Nevertheless, strange to say, he was nearly always the -first in his English class at school. Vainly one conjectures what may -have been the attainments of the rest of them or, for that matter, of -their teachers. - -So he studies two hours a day with me and two hours alone, preparing for -an examination in October; and that is his _raison d’être_ in this -country. He has just given me, to correct, a translation from a book -full of “thèmes et versions,” all of which are too difficult for him; -this one is his English rendering of a stiff piece that describes P. L. -Courier’s disgust at the French Court. It is a noteworthy specimen of my -pupil’s command of _vocables_ and of nothing else; a document which I -should not hesitate to set down here, in full, could I persuade anybody -into the belief that it was authentic. That is out of the question. -People would say I had wasted a good week of my life, trying to -manufacture something comical. - -Instead of this “anglais au baccalauréat” we have lately begun a course -of Grimm’s Fairy Tales which are nearer to his level, and I am realizing -once more what this stuff, so-called folk-lore, is worth. A desert! For -downright intellectual nothingness, for misery of invention and -tawdriness of thought, a round half dozen of these tales are not to be -surpassed on earth. They mark the lowest ebb of literature; even the -brothers Grimm, Germans though they were, must have suffered a spasm or -two before allowing them to be printed. Fortunately Mr. R.’s versions of -this drivel are far, far superior to the original; they beat it on its -own ground of sheer inanity; and I am carefully collecting them to be -made up, at some future period, into an attractive little volume for the -linguistic amateur. - - - - -THE BRUNNENMACHER - -_The Brunnenmacher_ - - -Now what may that old _Brunnenmacher_ have looked like? I never saw him. -I only know that, like my friend his son, he was the official -water-expert of the town of Bludenz, that he was older than my father, -and every bit as incurable a _Bergfex_--mountain-maniac. His nick-name, -“Bühel-Toni,” suffices to prove this. Those two were always doing -impossible things up there at the risk of their lives (it was thus, -indeed, that my father was killed) either together, or alone, secretly, -in emulation of each other. For in those days the whole of this province -was virgin soil, so far as climbing was concerned, and numberless are -the peaks they are supposed to have scaled for the first time. Yet -neither of them, it seems, had ever tackled the Zimba, the noblest of -those pinnacles of the Rhætikon group which I can see from this window, -out there, on the other side of the valley, covered with fresh snow -wherever snow can come to lie among its crags. The Zimba rises to a -height of 2640 meters and was regarded as inaccessible by local chamois -hunters who, for the rest, were under no obligation to scramble up -places of this kind, their game being abundant lower down. Inaccessible! -That annoyed these two _Bergfexes_ all the more. - -“Are you never going to try?” my father would ask. - -Said the Brunnenmacher: - -“I am an old man, and have at least three times as many children -dependent on me as you have. That makes a difference. Besides, you are -rich. Rich people can afford to break their necks. Aren’t you ashamed of -yourself? There it is, staring you in the face all day long. I could -never resist the temptation, if I were in your place. Only think: it -would be quite an unusual kind of honor for you, an Englishman, to have -been the first up there. In fact, I confess I should feel a little -jealous and sore about it, myself.” - -So it went on for months or years, and each time they met, the -Brunnenmacher would say: - -“So-and-so now thinks of trying the Zimba. Are you going to let him have -it his own way? Is he to get all the glory? Now’s your chance,” or else: -“How about the Zimba? Still afraid? What a scandal. Ah, if I were only a -few years younger!” - -At last my father could bear it no longer and slunk out of the house one -afternoon on his usual pretext--when anything risky had to be done--of -going after chamois. He rolled himself in his blanket at the Sarotla -alp, near the foot of the peak, and next day, somehow or other, set foot -on the virgin summit. Imagine his disgust on finding there a -_Steinmandl_, a cairn, containing a bottle with an affectionate letter -to himself from “Bühel-Toni” who had sneaked up ages ago, all by -himself, without saying a word to any one. - -That is the history of the Zimba, which is now climbed by numerous -tourists every year. No wonder; since all the difficult places have been -made easy. Even so, the mountain has claimed its victims--three, within -the last few years; one of them a tough old gentleman who, to test his -nerve and muscle, insisted on “doing” the Zimba once a year. It was a -sporting notion; the Zimba did him, in the end; he lies buried in the -new Protestant cemetery at Bludenz. And if you like to scramble up from -the Rellsthal flank, you may still have some fun. Not long ago a tourist -actually died of fright while climbing down here. He had gone up by the -ordinary route to the satisfaction of his guide who, being from the -Montavon valley and anxious to get home as soon as possible (this is my -own assumption) took him down by this almost perpendicular “short cut.” -At a certain point the tourist declared that he could go neither -forwards nor backwards, and was going to die then and there. Which he -straightway proceeded to do, rather foolishly. But there are no limits -to what a real tourist can accomplish. Along the extremely convenient -track which scales the cliff between the Zalim alp and the Strassburger -hut (Scesaplana district) two young men contrived to slip; they were -shattered to fragments. Cleverest of all was the gentleman who lately -achieved the distinction of dying from exposure on the Hoher Frassen. He -ought to have left us word to say how the thing was done. - -We do not always realize the difficulties of the pioneers. Among other -matters, there were no shelter huts in those days. That which lies below -the Zimba, on the Sarotla alp, is one of some fifty now scattered about -the hills of this small province. The earliest of them all was the -Lünersee hut which bears the name of my father; he was then president of -our local section of the Alpine Club. Built for the convenience of -visitors to the Scesaplana summit, this hut was swept into the lake long -ago, with all it contained, by an avalanche. It is time another -avalanche came along, for the place has grown into a caravanserai of the -rowdiest description. Altogether, selfish as it may sound, I should not -be sorry to see every one of these structures burnt to the ground, or -otherwise obliterated. Their primary object, to afford shelter to _bona -fide_ climbers, is laudable; what they actually do, is to serve as -hotels--not bad ones, either--to a crowd of summer visitors whose faces -and clothes and manners are an outrage on the surroundings. Abolish the -huts, or cut down their comforts and menus to what a climber might -reasonably expect, and the objectionable “Hüttenwanzen” would evaporate. -What are they doing among these mountains? Let them guzzle and perspire -in Switzerland!... - -My friend the younger Brunnenmacher, son of “Bühel-Toni,” was also -official water-specialist and _Bergfex_; he may well have been the image -of his father since, from all I have heard, he had the same character -and therefore, according to a theory of my own, must have resembled him -also in person. If that be so, we may take it for granted that the -father was an unusually hirsute creature. The mere sight of his son, at -the Bludenz swimming baths, used to send us into fits. Nobody had ever -seen such a “Waldmensch.” He might have been a gorilla in this -respect--an uncommon kind of gorilla; for not every gorilla, I fancy, -can afford to wear a regular parting down its back. No gorilla, either, -could climb in better style; or smile, if they smile at all, to better -purpose. The Brunnenmacher’s laughing face charmed away hunger and -fatigue and wet clothes and all the ills of mountaineering. It may seem -far-fetched to apply the terms “ingenuous” or “childlike” to the smile -of a bearded monster of forty, but there are no other epithets available -for that of the Brunnenmacher. It rose to his lips, on seeing you; it -hovered there day and night, waiting for your appearance. Doubtless he -had a peculiar affection for me, as being my father’s son; everybody -found him a lovable person. - -His weather-proof good humor must have helped to establish his -reputation as a guide; that, and his jovial blasphemies. They made you -laugh, and a guide who makes you laugh has already gone a long way -towards gaining your friendship. Once you persuaded the Brunnenmacher to -begin some story of his, which was not difficult, you were sure to get -an adequate amount of playful bad language thrown in. An infallible -method of getting more than this adequate amount was to make him -relate his experiences of a trip to America, and of the agonies -of four days’ sea-sickness on an empty stomach. This narrative -bristled with swear words; it ended in a fixed formula: “Jo, -Himmelherrgottsakraméntnochemol, do honni grod gmeint i müest ussm -grosse Zähe uffi kotze!” which might as well be left untranslated ... - -There is a curious cave near Bludenz called the _Bährenloch_, the bear’s -cavern; it lies at the foot of the cliffs above the road to Rungalin -village--not the field path, but that which skirts the hills. I say -curious, because it is plainly not a natural cave; it is an artificial -one and has been hacked by human hands out of the limestone; when, by -whom, and for what purpose, no one knows. The chisel-marks are quite -plain, once you are well inside. It is roughly quadrangular in shape and -about the height of a man at the entrance; half way through, it takes a -slight bend to the right and, growing narrower and narrower till you can -hardly turn round, ends abruptly, as though the builder had grown weary -of his toil, or disappointed with its result. The work of a mediæval -anchorite? I doubt it. Such a person would have contented himself with a -domicile less than half its length. Perhaps some crazy enthusiast dug it -long ago, in the hope of discovering gold or what not among the bowels -of those cliffs. - -The younger Brunnenmacher first took me there, and how he managed to hit -upon the precise locality of this grotto remains a mystery to me. Not -only was the steep woodland below much thicker in those days--almost -impenetrable, in fact--and without any trace of an upward path, but the -entire base of the cliffs was defended by so dense a mass of brushwood -that we had to crawl through it on hands and knees. How did he contrive -to ascend undeviatingly to the cavern’s mouth? A few yards astray, and -we should have been lost in that jungle where one could barely move, and -had no means of seeing to right or left. All this sounds incredible at -present. Most of the brushwood has been uprooted and the forest thinned -out to such an extent that it has become quite transparent; moreover, -that meritorious “beautification-society” of Bludenz constructed, among -many other things, a convenient zigzag path which will lead you after -fourteen windings to the very entrance of the _Bährenloch_. The -horse-shoe bats, the greater and the lesser, which I used to capture -here and take home as pets, may well have deserted the place; likewise -the young foxes and badgers we unearthed in the neighborhood. One of -these badgers grew so tame that he followed me about everywhere, and -would even take me for rides on his back. I should like to see him do it -nowadays.[3] - -This Brunnenmacher seems to have made up his mind that I was to become a -climber like himself. He took me in hand. He made me trot miles and -miles, as it seemed, up the then almost trackless Galgen-tobel and -showed me the _fons et origo_ of the Bludenz water supply, as well as a -spot where you could discover a certain vitriolic mineral by the simple -process of applying your tongue to the rock; and still further afield, -into the upper regions of the Krupsertobel, and down its savage bed. -Then came the turn of the mountains--Scesaplana, to begin with. As -guide, he had already gone up there some seventy times, and even I got -to know it so well in later years that I could have walked up in -blackest midnight. Next the Sulzfluh, famous as a haunt of the -Lämmergeier; and so on. One of the last of these trips was up the -Säntis, the shapely peak across the Swiss frontier, which seems to close -up our valley to the west. We came back with our pockets full of -rock-crystals. - -So I pursue the memories, as they rise from the past, of those old days -of the Brunnenmacher. He died a good many years back. But he has left -behind a sturdy brood of children--I know not how many; dozens of them, -let us hope, to inherit his smile.... - -That Säntis mountain, which I have just mentioned, has a bad name at -this moment. There was a foul murder done here, some months ago; the -married couple in charge of the observatory near the summit were found -killed at their post. Nobody could guess who the assassin was, nor what -his object might have been, till the body of a young man was discovered -in some hut not far away. He had committed suicide; and he was the -murderer. So far as I could gather, this youngster was of decent birth -but, owing to excesses of one kind or another, had lost all balance and -self-respect. One thing, nevertheless, he preserved intact: an intense -love of the Säntis, his native mountain, which he seems to have regarded -as a sort of private domain. He knew its territory inch by inch and -could never bring himself to forsake it; this affection, indeed, was his -undoing, for after the crime he made no attempt to quit the country, as -he easily might have done. The all-absorbing attachment to this piece of -ground kept him chained there, and it was supposed, though nowise -proved, I fancy, that he killed the old people out of an insane envy, -and in the equally insane hope of being thereafter installed at the -observatory as their successor, and having the Säntis all to himself for -the rest of his life. Murders are committed for a considerable variety -of amorous motives, but seldom for one of such a glacially nonsexual and -idealistic tinge; it is the kind of etherealized horror that might be -imagined to take place on some other planet. Altogether, an interesting -problem in psychology, if the facts they gave me are correct. To fall -in love with a mountain is not the common lot of man. And so -disastrously! - -It was a tragedy of unreciprocated passion, from beginning to end. The -Säntis is no longer in the first flush of youth; it can be trusted, I -feel sure, to behave with perfect decorum under the most trying and -delicate circumstances. Its reputation, previous to this little affair, -had been of the best; nor is there any reason to suppose that it gave -its brain-sick admirer the slightest encouragement to act as he did, or -to think himself singled out for favors denied to the rest of us. The -locality is doubtless attractive, as such places go, but that is not its -own fault--who ever heard of blame attaching to beauty?--so attractive, -that a man might well be pardoned for growing fond of it, and fonder, -and fonder. Even in the case of superlative fondness, I, at least, would -still try not to feel jealous of other people’s familiarity with its -charms, and would certainly think twice before murdering a respectable -married couple _pour ses beaux yeux_. - - * * * * * - -I have now seen four generations of these delightful folk who own our -tavern, the latest arrival being a great-grandchild of the first. Though -barely born, it already wears a laughable resemblance to its -grandfather. - -He is the present head of the family, a village magnate who knows the -ins and outs of the countryside as well as any one alive; a Nimrod in -his day, and the only marksman, beside my father, to whom they hung up a -diploma of honor in the Ludesch shooting range; he has lived for years -in Milan and traveled, officially, to Vienna, to set forth to the -Government some claim of our district. The face might be that of one of -those good-natured but intelligent Roman emperors like Titus, with round -head and ruddy hair; a face such as you find all over the Roman province -to this day, and all over this province as well. His family came -originally from the Bregenzerwald region, at the back of our hills, and -is connected with that of Angelika Kauffmann who was born there.[4] - -Having been friends with him for the last half century, we never lack -subjects of conversation; there is fresh ground to explore as often as -we meet, and old ground to traverse again. What I now want to know is -this: how about the rain? Are we in for a _Landregen_? He thinks not; -the weather is too cold, and snow lies too low; where his own cattle -are, on the alp of Zürs near Lech, it must be lying at this moment. -Unless the weather clears, he will have to go up and look after them; -also on account of the foot-and-mouth disease, which has broken out in -the neighborhood. Lech: who has the chamois shooting there? Nearly all -the shoots in the country, he explains, have been taken by Swiss, and no -wonder; look at their exchange! And what of the projected _Anschluss_ -(annexation) to Switzerland? Well, Germany would be better, on the -whole. Besides, the truth of the matter is (laughing) the Swiss won’t -have us; they say we are too Catholic and too lazy and too fond of -drinking. As if our people could afford to pay for wine nowadays! By the -way, just try this _Schnapps_, as a curiosity. - -It was juniper-spirit, of the year 1882. With all respect for its -antiquity, I found myself unable to appreciate the stuff. Then he gave -me, as an antidote, some of his own _Obstler_ (made of apples) only -three weeks old. A little crude, but of good promise. So we went through -the lot. His own _Zwetschgenwasser_--excellent! Then Kirsch, from the -neighboring village of Tiefis, which makes a specialty of this -_Schnapps_, distilled from the small mountain cherries; of mighty -pleasant flavor. Next, Enzian; the product of the yellow Alpine -gentian. Whoever likes Enzian--and who can help liking it?--will have -nothing to say against that of our Silberthal, which has a well-deserved -reputation for this brand. _Beerler_, I enquire? No, he says; nobody -makes bilberry-spirit any more. - -“Which is a pity.” - -“This infernal war----” - -“It has shattered all the refinements of life.” - -So we discuss the world, and presently the proprietress comes up to -announce that she has discovered coffee. I thought she would! She sent -to Bludenz for it, on the sly. Now what, I ask, is her particular method -of roasting? - -“Why, in the oven, of course; and very carefully. Then, when the beans -begin to sweat, and are neither lighter nor darker than a capuchin’s -frock, I take them out and place them, steaming hot, into a glass jar -and cover them at once with a thick layer of powdered sugar. There they -get cold slowly and are obliged, you see, to draw in again all the -fragrance which they would otherwise have lost. Isn’t that your English -way?” - -I wish it were.... - - - - -TIEFIS - -_Tiefis_ - - -A really fine morning at last; glorious sunshine. - -“Now for those idiots,” says Mr. R., and so do I. We have found out -about them, from the inn-people. - -It appears that two, a man and a woman, come from the Walserthal, which -has always been famous for its crop of imbeciles; the third was born at -Raggal, likewise fertile mother of idiots, because everybody marries -into his own family there. These Raggalers are such passionate -agriculturalists and so busy, all the year round, with their fields and -cattle, that they refuse to waste time scouring the province for so -trivial an object as a wife with fresh blood, when you can get a -colorable substitute at home. Our particular idiots live, all three of -them, on the road to St. Anne church, in that workhouse which, so far as -I know, has sheltered from time immemorial the poor of the district, the -aged, the infirm of mind or body. There is always a fine assortment of -wrecks on view here. Sisters of Charity look after them. - -Sure enough, the first thing we saw was one of the man-idiots hacking -wood out of doors. He was of the deaf and dumb variety, with misshapen -skull; he took no notice of us, but continued at his task with curious -deliberation, as if each stroke of the ax necessitated the profoundest -thought. Weak in the head, obviously; but not what I call an idiot. If -he could have spoken, he would doubtless have uttered as many witticisms -as one hears in an English public-house at closing time. The woman was -also there, sitting on the bench beside a Sister of Charity. -Under-sized, stupid-looking, with mouth agape; nothing more; I have seen -society ladies not unlike her in appearance. She can sew and knit -stockings and even talk, they had told us. Mediocre specimens, both of -them. And how about the third one, we enquired? He was working in the -fields, said the Sister. - -Working in the fields.... - -These things call themselves idiots. Even idiots, it seems, have -degenerated nowadays. Mr. R. was dreadfully disappointed; and so was I. -He vowed I had led him to expect something on quite another scale; and -so I had. He extracted a promise, then and there, that I should show him -over Valduna, the provincial lunatic asylum near Rankweil, in the hope -of unearthing a few idiots worthy of the name. - -Now of course you cannot have everything in this world. You cannot ask, -in a district otherwise so richly endowed by Nature as this one, for the -_fine fleur_ of imbecility--for _crétins_. To see these marvels you must -go further afield, to places like the Valtellina or Val d’Aosta (and -even there, I understand, the race is losing some of its best -characteristics. These doctors!) But one might at least have kept alive -a specimen or two of the old school, just for memory’s sake; idiots such -as my sister and myself used to see, while rambling as children about -these streets with the _Alte Anna_, our nurse. On that very bench, where -the modish lady was reclining to-day, or its predecessor, there used to -sit two skinny old madwomen side by side, with their backs to the wall. -There they sat, always in the same place. They were as mad as could be, -and older than the hills. A terrifying spectacle--these two blank -creatures, staring into vacuity out of pale blue eyes, with white hair -tumbled all about their shoulders. One of them disappeared--died, no -doubt; the survivor went on sitting and staring, in her old place. There -was another idiot whom we liked far better; in fact we loved him. He was -of the joyful and jabbering kind, and he lived near the factory. His -facial contortions used to make us shriek with laughter. Sometimes he -dribbled at the mouth. When he dribbled copiously, which was not every -day, it was our crowning joy. - -The old Anna, of course, knew by heart every idiot within miles of our -home. She specialized in such phenomena. What she liked even better was -anything in the nature of an accident, operation, horrible disease, or -childbirth; she knew of it, by some dark instinct, the moment it -occurred: she knew! and, being forbidden to leave the children alone, -dragged us with her into the remotest peasant-houses and hamlets to -enjoy the sight. Above all things, she had a mania for corpses and the -flair of a hyena for discovering their whereabouts. As often as there -was a corpse within walking distance, she donned her seven-league boots -and rushed towards it in the bee-line, carrying my sister, to save time, -while I toddled painfully after. Arrived at the spot where the dead body -lay, she would first cross herself and then begin to gloat. We did the -same. Who knows how many maladies, how many corpses, we inspected at -that tender age! A sound education. For it familiarized us with death -and suffering at a life-period when one cannot yet grasp their full -import; it took away, for good and all, a great part of their terrors. -We were never shocked by such things; only interested--hugely -interested.... - -After an appetizing luncheon which atoned for the bitter disappointment -of this morning, we strolled upwards in the sunshine, slowly and -comfortably, towards the village of Tiefis. The ancient _Dorfberg_ road -which started opposite the sawmill to climb the height now lies -obliterated and forgotten; it was so steep that coachmen and all the -rest of us--save one or other of those awesome Scotch grand-aunts, -fragile and frowsy--had to get out of the carriage and walk. Here, on -the upper level, stood certain immense walnut trees of ours, in whose -shade I used to crawl about before I could walk. They are gone. But the -distant iron target against the hill-side behind them, which served my -father for rifle-practice, is in its old place; they have not troubled -to pull it down. I glance into the back regions of our old house; no -great change here; some of the present proprietor’s children are bathing -in that fountain which used to be covered with water-lilies. Then, a -couple of hundred yards further on, the ochre-tinted bed of that -wonderful stream which petrified leaves and grasses, a ceaseless marvel -of childhood. There it is as of old, trickling downhill in the same -miniature cascade. Up again, to the next level and beyond, where the -forest begins and where, looking back, you have a fine view upon the -Zimba. - -Now these are the things for which I have come here; things for which -you will vainly ransack England and the whole Mediterranean basin. You -are confronted, all of a sudden, by a dusky precipice, a wall of ancient -firs, glittering in the sun; their branches droop earthward in -curtain-like fringes. Here the path enters the forest--an inspiring -portal! To step from those bright meadows into the solemn and friendly -twilight of the trees is like stepping into a vast green cavern, into -another world; involuntarily one lowers one’s voice. I shall be much -surprised if these benign woodlands do not have a chastening influence -upon the character and the whole worldly outlook of Mr. R., to whom this -country and its people and language and customs are so utterly strange -that he has not yet recovered from his first bewilderment; they are what -he needs--what all of us need; one should return to them again and -again, to breathe a cleaner air, to rectify one’s perspective, to escape -from the herd and the contamination of its unsteady brain. - -There is a short break in the wood soon afterwards, a steep grassy slope -with a hay-hut at its foot. The place is called _Hirsch-sprung_, because -in olden days a hunted stag took the whole descent at a single leap. Any -one who has seen stags pursued by a hound will admit that they are -remarkable jumpers. They seldom get as good a chance as this, of showing -what they can do. The distance aerially traversed must be about eighty -yards. - -Tiefis is a new and prosperous village; the old one was burnt down in -the sixties. We went to my old inn where we discovered, among other -things, a pretty fair-haired child, daughter of the proprietress; she -has the clearest complexion imaginable and the sweetest smile, and her -eyes are not blue, but of a mysterious golden-gray; the very picture of -innocence, and just the kind of person to trouble desperately Mr. R., -who is of the other color and at an inflammable age, though far more -decent-minded than I used to be. The charm is fleeting; she will lose -some of her looks; already I detect an ever so slight thickening of her -throat. Goitrous throats are none too rare hereabouts and nobody seems -to mind them, but Mr. R. knows nothing about such things as yet. At my -invitation she came and sat down beside him, which disconcerted both of -them at first, while I discussed the price of wine and other commodities -with the mother, whose nervous twitch in one eye must not be mistaken -for a wink. Where would it end, I enquired? Did innkeepers like herself -still stock the better qualities of white, the Nieder-oesterreicher and -so-called Terlaner, or red kinds like Veltliner and Kalterer See and -Magdalener? Would not people, at this rate, soon give up drinking wine -altogether? They were giving it up fast, she said. No peasant cared to -pay 1500 kronen for a quarter of a liter. Only last week it was 800; in -another fortnight it might be 2500 (it is now 4000). And so forth. - -“I think it would be polite to shake hands with the little baby,” said -Mr. R., as we rose to depart. - -“The little baby? I see. Go ahead. She won’t bite.” - -“Of course not. But one ought to say something. What is the German for -_au revoir_?” - -“Say nothing to-day. Keep that for next time. Look straight into her -face and smile; put your soul into it.” - -“I was going to do that anyhow.” - -Down again, by that pleasant road which connects the villages of Tiefis -and Bludesch. At the foot of the hill we abandoned it and turned to the -left, eastwards, up a swampy dell which, I knew, would bring us back -once more to the Stag’s Leap--a winding, narrow vale encompassed by -woodlands and drenched, just then, in a magical light from the sunset at -our back. It is called the “Eulenloch” (owl’s den), and a streamlet runs -down its center; the only streamlet in the district which contains -crayfish and therefore used to supply us, in former days, with _potage -bisque_. We captured one of these crustaceans; the brook is hereafter to -be known as “ruisseau des écrevisses” (its real name is “Riedbach,” from -the rushes through which it flows). They dig peat here, as in many of -these upland bogs, and the rank vegetation with its pungent odors, sweet -and savage, has not yet been mowed down--a maze of tall blue gentians -and mint and mare’s-tail, and flame-like pyramids of ruby color, and -meadowsweet, and the two yellows, the lusty and the frail, all tenderly -confused among the mauve mist of flowering reeds. I am glad I have -arrived in time to enjoy such sights; these wood-engirdled marshes have -a fascination of their own. How good it is to be at home again, -simmering and bubbling with contentment as you recognize the old things -in their old places! - -On the right flank of this owl’s den there used to be a bare patch -famous for its strawberries. It is now afforested and the strawberries -are gone; they have strawed--strayed--elsewhere; they follow the -clearings. But that hay-hut remains, that hut of the early school, built -of massive timbers between which the hay comes leaking out; the roof is -green with antique moss, and sulphur-hued lichen decks its beams. The -architecture of these huts has undergone a change, not for the better, -of late years; they are no longer squat and solid, but lanky, flimsy, -and almost ignoble of aspect, though the hay within is more securely -sheltered against damp by a covering of wooden boards. It is precisely -this covering which spoils their appearance.... - -And here at last, below the Stag’s Leap, is the source of the _ruisseau -des écrevisses_. I knew what to expect. Those firs were cut down a good -while ago, and the rivulet now wells up amid a tangle of young deciduous -trees that have profited by their absence to settle down close to the -brink for a season. You can hardly discover the spring for this -ephemeral luxuriance; it hides itself therein like a “nymphe pudique,” -as Mr. R. observed. The scene was otherwise in olden days, when hundreds -of mighty firs filled up all the vale. How otherwise! Then water rilled -forth among their roots, a liquid joy, in the gloom of multitudinous -over-arching boughs. Many are the hours I dreamt away as a lad, all -alone, at this richly romantic spot. The firs will doubtless come to -their rights again, and stifle in chill and darkness these sun-loving -intruders; they are already planted. Would I not wait, if I could, to -see the fountain as it used to be? - - * * * * * - -A short stroll late at night, down the main road towards Bludesch, in -order to enjoy the scent of the fields.... - -I look up at my old home; it is brilliantly illuminated; three different -families, they say, are at present living there. I should not care to -enter that place again. Then we pass the doctor’s house on our left. I -tell Mr. R. of all the different village Æsculaps who have inhabited -that abode; chiefly of the first one, the venerable Dr. Geiger with -rubicund face and enormous goggles on his nose, who cured all my -childish complaints by means of camomile tea. It was his unvarying -remedy, his panacea; my mother assured me, long afterwards, that he -would prescribe camomile tea, and nothing else, to pregnant women. -He also had one grand and mysterious word which recurred forever -in his conversation and was pronounced with a solemn face: -_Abendsexacerbation_. I used to take it for abracadabra, a kind of -charm, never dreaming that it meant anything. His was an original way of -curing infantile headaches. - -“That pain is nothing,” he would remark, “I will just take it home with -me,” and therewith pretended to snatch up the headache and put it in his -pocket. The pain always vanished--or ought to have done. I must have -given him a little more trouble one day when, having been forbidden to -touch the verdigris on certain copper pipes, I made a square meal of the -lovely green stuff. It was a close shave, they told me afterwards; -camomile worked wonders on that occasion, and during convalescence he -told my mother that my pulse was placid like that of “an old cow,” which -it still is. - -While talking of close shaves, we had reached the very spot where I had -another one. No fun, driving inside that family barouche with a brace of -frumpy grand-aunts--no fun at all; I therefore insisted, if one must -drive, on being beside the coachman and, on that particular occasion, -tumbled down from my exalted perch because the horses shied at -something, and landed head first on the stony road. Ah, we are close to -Bludesch now, at the ancient church of St. Nicholas; and thereby hangs -another tale. It used to have windows of those small, fat, round, -greenish panes of hand-made glass which were common hereabouts, till a -sentimental and eccentric female relation of ours took it into her head -that she would like to build a house with no other glass in its windows -than these “runde Scheible”; it would be rather a gloomy sort of place -inside, but so picturesque, you know! The church authorities were -delighted to exchange their old-fashioned panes for others of -transparent glass; so were all the peasants round about; and in briefest -space of time there was not a “Butrescheibe” left in the countryside; -you may see one specimen of it over the old gate at Bludenz, but this -was inserted only a few years ago to give the place a more time-honored -appearance. Now here again, I explain, on our return--here, immediately -below my old home, stood a shrine dedicated to the Virgin. Twenty years -ago, during a terrific nocturnal thunderstorm, one of those gay tumults -when the sky is lilac with flashes and the Cosmos seems to be definitely -cracking to pieces, it was struck by lightning. Why was it shattered, -while all the neighboring houses, and even that of the unbelievers -above, were spared? Nobody knows to this day. All we do know is that the -priest had the débris of the disaster cleared away in record time, and -another and quite insignificant structure built in its stead. - -Mr. R. is not greatly moved by these and other impressive memories of my -past. He prefers to extract a sort of childish fun, not for the first -time, out of the shape and color of my felt hat which, being of the -latest London fashion, is unfamiliar to him and therefore, in his -opinion, an appropriate and inexhaustible subject for laughter in season -and out of season. Young people seem to be engrossed in externals of -this kind, and never to realize that a joke has its limits. I can stand -as much chaff as most of us, but foresee trouble ahead unless he -succeeds in discovering some fresh source of mirth. - -He also thinks Tiefis a pretty village, and wants to know when we are -going there again. - - - - -LUTZ FOREST - -_Lutz Forest_ - - -Out of that side-valley on our east, the Walserthal,[5] issues the -rushing Lutz torrent, almost a river. It joins the Ill, our main stream, -a mile or so after quitting that valley; the Ill flows into the upper -Rhine below Feldkirch; the Rhine into the Lake of Constance not far from -Bregenz, our capital. We therefore drain into the North Sea. At a few -hours’ walk over the hills behind us, however, and again on the other -side of the Arlberg (boundary between this province and the Tyrol), the -waters drop into the Lech or Inn; this as, _via_ Danube, into the Black -Sea. A simple hydrographical system. - -Now ever since a recent date which I forget, when the upper Rhine -misbehaved itself so shockingly that the Austrian and Swiss Governments -were forced to undertake some costly works with a view to ensuring -better conduct in the future, our own two rivers, the Lutz and Ill, -which were likewise subject to devastating floods, began to be hemmed in -by stone embankments more systematically and more remorselessly than -they had ever yet been in days of old, when they also gave an infinity -of trouble. For it was obvious that their freakishness, coinciding with -that of the Rhine and due to continued showers in these upper regions, -was responsible for a certain amount of the Rhine’s damage. The -consequence is, that Lutz and Ill have put on new faces and grown -painfully proper; they are no longer the wantons they were. And -therefore all the fascinating wilderness of gray shingle and bowlders -alongside, sparsely dotted with buckthorn, or white willow, or stunted -little ghosts of birches--all that broad sunny desolation of their -banks, where one chased crimson-winged grasshoppers and looked for -garnets in those water-worn blocks of gneiss: all, all a thing of the -past! Our streams now flow, in miserably straight lines, each down its -own narrow channel, and large tracts of the unprofitable soil on either -side have been planted with flourishing young pines and firs--an -excellent investment for such worthless gravel-land hereabouts. Gone -are the garnets and grasshoppers; gone is the charm of those pallid -wastes. The economist gains. The poet, as usual, looks on and counts his -loss. - -Our village, lying on the north side of the valley, faces south; the -valley may here be two and a half miles wide, as the crow flies. First -come fields, then a broad stretch of woodland through which runs the Ill -river and the railway Paris-Vienna, then hills once more, in the shape -of the unprepossessing mountain called Tschallenga--popularly “der -Stein.” It is all quite simple. - -On our way yesterday into these low-lying forests, we passed through the -meadow beside the church of St. Anne. A large stretch of the adjoining -woodland has recently been extirpated and converted into pasture--the -uprooted trunks are still lying about; those two old lime trees remain -untouched; the little stream has run dry. Here, on this meadow, was a -surprise: a football ground. It wore a neglected air; the boys can only -play on Sundays, since the war. Here the lords of Blumenegg used to be -received in state by the people, their lieges; here, during the Thirty -Years’ War, the fighting men of the countryside were to assemble at a -given signal by day or night, completely armed and furnished with three -days’ provision each. Here also, wholly unconcerned about the Thirty -Years’ War, I used to wait for a youthful companion to whom I was -fondly attached; here we sat and exchanged confidences, and fashioned -rustic pipes out of the twig of some shrub whose bark, in spring, can be -pulled away from its wood like the glove off a finger. - -On a certain occasion--an occasion which I regard as a turning-point--I -happened to be all alone under the pines a little further on, near that -former bank of the river which is still marked by huge blocks of -defensive stone-work, now useless and smothered under a tangle of -brushwood. We visited, yesterday, the very spot where, at the callow age -of seven, I formulated, and was promptly appalled by its import, a -far-reaching aphorism: There is no God. For some obscure reason (perhaps -to test the consequences) those awful words were spoken aloud. Nothing -happened. Who can tell what previous internal broodings had led to this -explosive utterance! None at all, very likely. The phenomenon may have -been as natural and easy of birth as the flowering of a plant, the -cutting of a wisdom tooth--which, as every one knows, is nearly always a -painless process. There it was: the thing had been said. Often, later -on, that little incident under the pines recurred to my memory. I used -to ask myself: Why make such earth-convulsing speeches? And then again: -Why not? Which means the periodical relapses into credulity, into a kind -of funk, rather, occurred for the next few years. After that, my -intellect ceased to be clouded by anthropomorphic interpretations of the -universe. Let each think as he pleases. To me, even as a boy, it was -misery to profess credence in any of this Mumbo-Jumbo or to conform to -any of its rites; and a considerable relief, therefore, to escape from -England into a German gymnasium where, although games were not -officially encouraged and work fifty times harder than at -home--theology, among other subjects, being drummed into us with -pestilential persistence--one was at least not asphyxiated by the -noisome atmosphere of mediæval ecclesiasticism which infected English -public schools in those days, and will doubtless infect them in _saecula -saeculorum_. That everlasting “chapel” with its murky Gothic ritual--and -before breakfast too: what a fearsome way of beginning the morning! Let -each think as he pleases. I have better uses for my leisure than to try -to bring others round to any convictions of mine, such as they are; far -better uses. Enough for me to have watched the virus at work; and if I -seem to be sensitive on this one point--why, here are scores of -respectable elderly gentlemen wrangling themselves into hysterics over -sanitation and Zionism and Irish politics and other conundrums that -seldom trouble my dreams. - -So it came about that yesterday, at the end of nearly fifty years, I -approached once more, and with a kind of reverence, the sacred spot -under the trees where the Lutz used to flow, and there thanked my genius -for preserving me from not the least formidable of those antediluvian -nightmares which afflict mankind at its most critical period of -life--the nightmare of hopes never to be realized and of torments hardly -worth laughing at; and from all its mischievous and perverse -complications. Well, well! Men in general are brought up so differently -nowadays that they cannot realize what a disheartening trial it was for -some of us youngsters at that particular age and in that particular -environment, where you could heave a Liddell and Scott at your -form-master’s head and only get a caning for it like anybody else, -whereas, if you were suspected of doubting the miracle of the barren -fig-tree, you were forthwith quarantined, isolated, despatched into a -kind of leper-colony, all by yourself. Boys are gregarious; they resent -such treatment. Let each think as he pleases. What I think is that a -grown-up man would be a poor fellow, unless he felt fairly comfortable -in any leper-colony into which these gentle ghost-worshipers may care to -relegate him.... - -The woods grow thicker and more solemn as you proceed downward in the -direction of Nenzing, tall firs of both varieties, some of them -ivy-wreathed, interspersed with pine-trees whose trunks of rose and -silver, struggling to obtain the same amount of light, shoot up straight -as lances; sunny clearings and stretches of meadowland where the cattle -graze knee-deep in spring; an undergrowth of junipers and other shrubs -just sufficient to diversify the scene and please the eye--never too -dense: noiselessly one treads on that emerald moss! - -I had intended to take Mr. R. into a part of the forest which has always -interested me and which I never fail to visit, a region of starved pigmy -pines; and there to give him a little lecture in English on the -formation of forest loam. The Lutz in 1625, or the Ill in 1651--it is -impossible for me to decide which of the two--changed its course in -consequence of a sudden flood and took a turn to the south, abandoning -its former bed. The result was that an area of bleak shingle, far -broader than the present river-bed, was left exposed in the middle of -the forest. Myriads of pine seeds have been scattered upon it ever -since, and the puny trees grow up slowly, dwarfishly; casting down but a -yearly handful of needles each, to form the necessary soil for future -generations. No moss has yet taken root after all these years, nor can -the more fastidious firs draw sustenance; the little pines, rising from -naked pebbles under foot, are in undisputed possession of the territory. -Had there been leafy willows or alders at hand, as in the Scesa-tobel -near Bludenz, the earthy covering would have been produced long ago and -this quasi-sterile tract merged into the forest on either side of it. -There were nothing but conifers on the spot, when the river forsook its -old channel; and it is uphill work for them. The “flourishing” pines and -firs of which I spoke just now have been judiciously planted; these are -self-sown. They are paying for the privilege. - -We also intended to visit the _Schnepfenstrich_, a piece of forest -between Bludesch and Nenzing where, in days gone by, one used to lie in -wait for the woodcock at nightfall. What excitement in the dim gloaming -of March--_Oculi: da kommen sie_--among those patches of trees with -their scent of dampness and sprouting leaves, listening for the call of -the male bird and waiting to see him glide past, mysterious as a -phantom! That was sport worthy of the name; though I now find it not -altogether easy to conjure up the first fine rapture of that -bird-massacring epoch. How unimaginative--unpoetic, let us say--are the -English, who put up this apparition of the twilight in the vulgarest -fashion with a dog, and then slaughter him as if he were nothing but a -pheasant or partridge! Such is our manner. It is the same with the -capercailzie, a stupid, worthless fowl--and worse than worthless: is he -not supplanting the finer black game? Why not ennoble him in death, at -least? Why not approach stealthily in the chill dusk of dawn, and espy -him at last, drunk with passion, on his favorite fir? Then, if you can -aim straight, he dies as we may all desire to die--swiftly, painlessly, -and like a lover in his highest moment of exaltation. I know what -Englishmen will say to this. They will say something about cruelty and -breeding-season. Your Anglo-Saxon is always worth listening to, when he -talks about cruel sports. - -We had _intended_, I say; but those pests of horse-flies, which Mr. R. -insists upon calling “fly-horses” or “flyses-horse,” became worse and -worse. There must have been cattle in this wood, not long ago. At last, -despite clouds of tobacco-smoke, they drove us fairly out into the -fields, and not long afterwards we found ourselves on the banks of the -“Feldbächle,” a cheery streamlet whose course, from start to finish, has -approximately the shape of a horse-shoe or, better still, of a capital -letter U, resting on its left flank. It rises in a copious and frigid -fountain, soon to be visited, on the uplands behind our village, flows -east through a charming swamp region, feeds the two reservoirs, tumbles -downhill in a spectacular fall--the cataract whose water-power tempted -my paternal grandfather to establish his cotton-mills on this spot, and -which is therefore the _causa causans_ of my presence here at this -moment--babbles fussily through the village, and there turns westwards -through these fields, to merge itself into the Tabalada stream lower -down. A short but lively career.[6] - -Sometimes, in dry weather, this rivulet is blocked and allowed to flow -over the parched plain. My first memory of it dates from such an -occasion. There were puddles in the stream-bed here and there, puddles -full of trout; and a number of Italian workmen--we employed a good many -Italians at the factories--were catching these trout with their hands -and eating them alive, as if they were apples. A disgusting sight, now I -come to think of it. - -A little later in life, I remember, and on a scorching summer afternoon, -my sister and I bolted into these fields from the house, presumably -after butterflies. How the sun blazed; how hot and sticky we were! And -here was the old Feldbächle full of water, gadding along in its usual -brisk style. An idea occurred to her. What about walking into it, -clothes and all? Then, at last, we should be cool again. No; not paddle -about the water like anybody else, but get right in, get properly in, in -up to the neck, and lie down there as if we were in bed. A great joke. -It was only on scrambling out again that we began to wonder what would -happen at home and what, in fact, might be the correct thing to do under -the circumstances. The problem was solved by an uphill march along the -petrifying brook to far above the needful level, a flank movement -eastwards in the rear of our own house, followed by a rapid descent into -that of our friend the gardener who, with his usual ingenuity, lighted -an immense fire at which our scanty summer garments were dried, one by -one. - - * * * * * - -Those old cotton-mills of ours at the foot of the cataract of which I -spoke are an ugly blot on the landscape; an eyesore, none the less, -which I can view without resentment, since, indirectly, I owe existence -to them and would not have missed the enjoyment of this life for -anything, nor would I exchange it even now for that of any other -creature on earth. - -The paternal grandfather who built and worked them almost to the day of -his death must have been a man of uncommon grit. I know little about -him. A mass of family documents full of the requisite information, as -well as other papers interesting to myself, were lost in one of those -accidents which occur to everybody now and then; a trunk was broken open -on a journey, the clothes stolen and these letters and things scattered -or thrown away by the thieves. Small comfort to receive insurance money -for the clothes! I would have preferred the papers which are now lost -for ever. - -I cannot even say when this business was founded. It may have been in -the late thirties, for he died October, 1870, aged sixty-six, at -Banchory, N. B., where he ought to have died, and there lies entombed in -our vault. His object in thus exiling himself and family for a whole -lifetime was to earn enough money to pay back some heavy mortgages on -his ancestral estate, for which he had an idolatrous affection. This -much I happen to know: that in 1856 already, by working these mills, he -was able to repay £36,000 towards the cost of them, and £24,000 towards -redeeming the mortgages. So he set himself to his grim task; and a grim -task it must have been to master the immense technical and commercial -details of such an undertaking, and all in a foreign language; to import -(among other little difficulties) every scrap of machinery from -Lancashire with no railway nearer, I fancy, than Zurich. He worked with -single aim and lived to reap his reward, although the losses due to the -American Civil War, and the Austro-German one, were such that the whole -enterprise nearly came to grief.[7] - -His portrait in old age, engraved from a photograph on one of those -shell-cameos which used to be fashionable, wears an air of clean-cut, -thoughtful determination. They told me of his effective way with -beggars. “Work!” he would say, whenever one of them turned up with his -usual tale of misery. “Work! I also work.” The other, naturally enough, -professed himself quite unable to find any work. Whereupon, to the -beggar’s intense disgust, he promptly found it for him. These gentlemen -learnt to avoid our house in his day. I also gathered that his favorite -ode of Horace was “Integer vitæ.” That sounds characteristic. My own -fancy leans towards the Lady of Antium.... - -His eldest son carried on the business, and to him, with his love of -mountaineering and multiple other activities, it must have been irksome -in the extreme to sit in that office. He also stuck it out, but died -young and, from all accounts, the best-loved man in the province, -despite his Lutheran faith. Having occasion, during my last visit to -Bregenz, to mention my name to an unknown shopkeeper who was to send me -a parcel, I was pleased to hear him say “Your name, dear sir, is eternal -in this country.” It is doubtless gratifying to find yourself in a -district where your family is held in honor. One must try, however, not -to take these things too melodramatically. We live but once; we owe -nothing to posterity; and a man’s own happiness counts before that of -any one else. My father’s tastes happen to have lain in a direction -which commended him to his fellows. Had his nature driven him along -lines that failed to secure their sympathy, or even their approval, I -should have been the last to complain. The world is wide! Instead of -coming here, one would have gone somewhere else. - - - - -BLUMENEGG - -_Blumenegg_ - - -Afternoon, and warmer than usual. Fön shifts about in irresolute, -vagrant puffs of heat; the sky, shortly before sunrise, had been flaring -red, copper-colored, from end to end. This is the ardent and wayward but -caressing wind under whose touch everything grows brittle and -inflammable; when in olden days all cooking had to be suspended and -fires extinguished; when whole villages, for some trifling reason, were -burnt to the ground; it was during Fön weather that Tiefis and Nüziders, -and several in the Rhine valley, were annihilated within the memory of -our fathers.[8] The peasants, unfamiliar with real heat, go about -gasping.... - -While crossing our cemetery to revisit the grave of a little brother of -my father’s, an infant, and the Catholics were kind enough to make room -for him here--it struck me how poetic are the German designations for -such sad spots, _Friedhof_ and _Gottesacker_, when contrasted with our -soul-withering “churchyard” or “graveyard” or “burial-ground.” The -people hereabouts contrive to invest with a halo of romance even that -most unromantic of objects, the common potato, by calling it _Erdapfel_, -or _Grundbirne_. And the names of the ruined castles that strew this -region, Schattenburg, Sonnenberg, Rosenegg, and so forth, were surely -invented by a race that had a fine feeling for such things. - -Or Blumenegg--which happens to be nothing but a translation of -Florimont, the Rhaeto-Roman name of this locality. - -If you follow the main road to Ludesch, you will pass through a fir wood -and then come to the Lutz bridge. Do not cross the stream; keep on this -side, and walk along the water. After a few hundred yards you will -arrive at the “Schlosstobel” (the old “Falster”; also called -“Storrbach”) which rushes past the foot of Blumenegg castle. Not many -years ago it descended in a wild flood, uprooting trees and covering the -ground with a hideous irruption of shingle, which will remain for some -little time. On the Schlosstobel’s other side you enter a forest called -Gstinswald; part of it used to belong to our family. Here, at the -entrance of this wood, stood a landmark; a picture attached to a tree, -in memory of a man who was drowned at this spot while endeavoring to -cross the rivulet during some spate of olden days. It was a realistic -work of art, depicting both Heaven and earth. This was the subject: down -below, a watery chaos, a black thundercloud out of which buckets of -rain descended upon the victim whom you beheld struggling in the -whirlpool of waves, while his open umbrella floated disconsolately in -the neighborhood; overhead, on the other side of the thundercloud (it -had taken on a golden tinge of sunshine half way through) the Mother of -God with a saint or two, gazing down upon the scene with an air of -detachment which bordered on indifference. The picture is no longer -there; and nothing remains of its tree save a moldy stump. - -From this point you can climb direct to the castle. We preferred to -wander awhile up the Gstinswald which clothes the right flank of the -Lutz river, in order to see what has happened to that mysterious and -solitary peasant-house which lay on a grassy slope in the forest. It is -still there, but those skulls of foxes and badgers and other beasts, -nailed by its occupant to a certain wooden door--skulls that held a -fascination for us children--are gone. And what of the snowdrops? This, -and a little hillock near Ludesch, were the only places where they could -be found; tiger-lilies grew elsewhere; _primula auricula_ only at the -Hanging Stone; cyclamen only at Feldkirch (where they were discovered in -the middle of the sixteenth century by Hieronymus Bock); the cypripedium -orchid (_calceolus Divæ Virginis_), the lady’s slipper, at two other -places; stag’s horn moss, _vulgo_ “Fuchsschwanz,” at four or five: we -knew them all! but flowers were dropped, when butterflies began. From -this farmhouse you have an unexpected view upon the summit of the -Scesaplana, and by far the best time to come here is after a summer -shower, when a procession of white mists comes trailing out of the -narrow valley, one after the other, like a troop of ghosts. Now ascend -through the field and the tract of woodland immediately behind this -farm, and you will reach a broad meadow which bears the old name of -Quadera or Quadern; against the huge barn which used to stand there, all -by itself, they have erected a modern house full of people. The castle -is not far off; you must look for it, since the little path that once -led up is half obliterated. And therein lies a great part of its charm; -you must look for it.... - -When all is said and done, when you have scoured Europe and other -regions in search of the picturesque and admired landscapes and ruins -innumerable, that shattered old fastness of Blumenegg, up there, still -remains one of the fairest places on earth. It is desolation itself, a -harmonious desolation, among its dreamy firs and beeches; firs within, -firs and beeches without. The roof is gone, and so are nearly all the -internal partitions; nothing but the shell survives. This shell, this -massive outer wall of blocks partly hewn and partly in the -rough--water-worn bowlders, dragged up from the Lutz-bed below--is -encrusted with moss wherever moss can grow; out of that moss sprout -little firs and little beeches, drawing what nourishment they can from -the old stones. They garnish the ruin. So Blumenegg is invaded by -nature; and nature, here, has been left untouched. A castle in a tale! -Elsewhere you see bare stretches of this wall, that tower up sadly in -ever-crumbling pinnacles. All is green within the shell; its firs are so -cunningly distributed that you can just see through them from one end to -the other of the ruin and realize, with pleasure, that you are within -some ancient enclosure. They rise out of an uneven floor whereunder, one -suspects, lie buried the roof and interior walls. This floor is thickly -carpeted with moss in every part. No brambles or inconvenient shrubs -grow here; nothing but firs and moss, and creeping ivy, and hepatica, -and daphne and the tender _Waldmeister_ plant, that calls up memories of -May. Once inside that green _enceinte_, a suggestion of remoteness -overcomes you; the world and its jargon are left behind. There is -silence save for the rushing torrent with its waterfall, three hundred -feet below. In former days, this castle must have towered grandly over -Ludesch and the whole valley. Viewed from down there, it now resembles -an agglomeration of spiky gray crags, peering upward through the firs. - -Doubtless they have written about this place and, if one took the -trouble, one could learn something of its past either from archives or -out of the histories published by local antiquarians. There has never -been a want of such people hereabouts; the province is rich in -literature of this class. A rather valuable book which has remained in -my possession by a miracle and was printed in “dem Gräfflichem Marckt -Embs” in 1616[9] gives some account of it; but though I know little -enough, I know more than its old author could possibly have recorded, -since Blumenegg “flourished” long after he did. Eight different -dynasties have ruled here; the last being the Austrian Crown, to whom -its rights devolved at the beginning of last century. The castle was -probably built in the twelfth; it is known to have stood in 1265 and is -described as a “Veste” in 1288; its lords had power over the three -neighboring villages and some of the Valentschina (the old name of the -Walserthal). They were answerable for their acts to no township, to no -civil or religious authority whatever; to none save the Emperor himself. -That is the way to live, for it was an undertaking of questionable -profit to complain of such people to the Emperor. They claimed the right -over life and death of their lieges and exercised it freely, -“_because_”--as one of them observed in 1397--“_we possess both stocks -and gallows_”: an adequate reason. That is the way to talk.[10] They -also executed robbers with the sword. Then, together with nearly all our -feudal strongholds, this castle was sacked by the Appenzell people of -Switzerland in 1405. Its outer wall is down, on the east. From this -flank, presumably, the invaders entered for their work of destruction. A -spot is still pointed out by the driving road, on the other side of the -wild torrent, where, during some siege, the horses of a noble coach took -fright at the sound of cannon-shots and threw themselves down the -precipice, carriage and all. - -Blumenegg revived. It was rebuilt and, during the Thirty Years’ War, -contained fifty Swedish prisoners in its “Keuthe,” a dungeon which was -pretty full even on ordinary occasions. Then, in 1650, the place was -burnt down with all it contained--priceless treasures among them, such -as the long-hidden manuscript of the _Chronicon Hirsaugiense_ in the -handwriting of its famous author, the Abbot Tritheim, of which, -fortunately, a copy had been taken a little earlier at St. Gallen. The -building was reduced to ashes a second time in 1774, and thereafter -allowed to fall into ruin, for ever. Why, I cannot say. Who would live -at Blumenegg if he could, particularly in that earlier period? The south -part of the castle, facing the valley, bears traces of a clumsy -reconstruction. It lacks the dreaminess of the remaining part; a harsher -element of stones dominates in this quadrangle, and you can discover an -old fire-place with blackened chimney and a few projecting wooden beams. -For the rest, it must have looked well, blazing up there; I can picture -the villagers of Ludesch down below, watching the conflagration and -dancing with joy! - -It did not take us long to make ourselves comfortable within the -enclosure, on that soft carpet. The sun was still fairly high; it -percolated through the fir-branches, etching lively patterns all around -us; it drew luscious tints, of unearthly brightness, out of the deep -green moss. And here we stayed, and stayed. We had fallen under the -spell of the place and neither felt inclined to move; some drowsy genius -hovered in our neighborhood. It was so warm and green; so remote. How -one changes! I used to find it irksome to be obliged to show this castle -to friends or relatives. Left to my own devices, I avoided the place; -there were no butterflies, no fossils, no snakes, no birds, worth -mentioning. Ten to one, not even a squirrel.... - -Since then, castle-ruins galore have been inspected. Europe is studded -with them. I think of those absurd places in England or on the Rhine, -possibly restored and in every case sullied by tourists and their -traces; out of them, the spirit of romance has been driven beyond -recall. The frowning rock-fortresses of the Bavarian Palatinate--Dahn, -Weglenburg, Trifels, Madenburg, Lindelbronn, Fleckenstein: how one used -to know them!--are in better case, or were, thirty odd years ago; even -they have not escaped contamination. Certain southern ruins are no doubt -imposing; but bleak. Bleak! Mere piles of masonry, they have not been -hallowed by lapse of years; they lack the refinement which verdure alone -can give; their ravages will show for all time. Those ravages are healed -here; trees and moss have done their work so well that an exquisite -_tonalité_ pervades the spot. Blumenegg is all in one key. Men have left -it to crumble alone; and alone it crumbles, slowly and graciously, to -earth. Nothing and nobody intrudes, save the wild things of nature; you -must look for it. A much-frequented path--short cut from the Walserthal -to the railway-station--runs close by; who ever steps aside? Resting in -that enchanted penumbra, one gains the impression that Blumenegg is -neither sad nor smiling; a little wistful, a little sleepy, like old -Barbarossa in his cave. - -What of the intimate, domestic life of its former occupants? On a night, -say, of December, 1402--of whom did the family consist, what was their -costume, their dinner menu, the sound of their dialect, their theme of -conversation? Does it help us much to know that Count Wolfart, -familiarly termed “the wolflet”--it probably suited him--could bring -five thousand men into battle? (An enormous number; can they have meant -five hundred?) Poke our noses, as we please, into chronicles, and pore -over books like Freytag’s “Bilder aus der deutschen Vergangenheit,” -these men remain crepuscular, elusive shapes. The Romans of the Empire, -the pyramid builders of Egypt, move in comparative daylight before our -eyes.... - -Meanwhile the mossy floor has ceased to glow. Slanting sunbeams come -filtered, lemon-tinted, through the beech-leaves out there; they spatter -the fir-trunks with moon-like discs and crescents. And still we refuse -to budge. A soft tinkle of cow-bells, inaudible by day, floats up from -the valley; even as we look on, those silvery patches begin to fade from -the trees, and everything trembles in the witchery of dusk. Interplay of -light and shade is ended. We feel no change, while darkness creeps up -stealthily; only the voice of the torrent has grown louder and hoarser. -A flock of crows suddenly arrives, with the evident intention of -roosting above our heads. Something apparently is not in order to-night, -for they rise again with discontented croakings. No wonder. Mr. R. has -been lying flat on his back for the last half hour immediately below -them, playing tunes on that mouth-organ--that talisman which I, in a -moment of inspiration, presented to him. On such occasions he is lost to -the world and in a kind of trance; one arm beats time in the air. The -birds cannot possibly see him, but they can hear the music, and no crow -on earth, not the wisest old raven, could guess the names of the -“morceaux” which have just been performed. - -“What were you playing, all this time?” I enquire, during a pause. - -“Well, there was the _marche des escargots_, which you must be sick of, -by now--a fine piece, all the same; and the old _vache enragée_----” - -“I know. Rather noisy, the old _vache_.” - -“What do you expect? Do you want her to go mad in her sleep. Then the -_fantaisie_ of last week, and _pluie dans les bois_, and the duet -between two sea-nymphs, and _rêve d’un papillon_ and a new one, a little -caprice or something, which has not yet got a name. I am thinking of -calling it _coin des fleurs_ (Blumenegg[11]).” - -Strange! This instrument appeals, as I expected, to certain primitive -and childlike streaks in his nature. At first, needless to say, it was -thrown aside with contempt; then shyly picked up from time to time. Now -the two are inseparable; it accompanies him everywhere in a specially -built leather case, and I should not be surprised to learn that he takes -it to bed with him. As to these “morceaux”--they have a real interest, -seeing that Mr. R. knows nothing whatever of music, cannot remember a -tune, never whistles or sings, and has only a feeble ear for rhythm in -poetry. None the less, each of these _melodies_ possesses a character of -its own and, once invented, never varies by a note. Their names, I -understand, are recorded in his diary. They are worth it. - -Night; and dark night, under these trees. The Fön is over, a chill dew -has fallen. We rise at last, rather stiff, and proceed cautiously -downwards till we reach the path; then across the bridge and into the -open meadow, the so-called fox-meadow, when--our match-box, our only -match-box: where is it gone? Forgotten inside the castle, on the moss. -Back again, to crawl about on hands and knees till the precious object -has been found; then once more to the fox-meadow. So we wander homeward, -in full content. The dew-drenched field sends a pleasant shiver up -through our boots, and a chorus of crickets is chirping lustily in its -damp earth. Stars are out; the Tschallenga hill, confronting us, has -become pitch-black; those Rhætian peaks are like steel, and their -snow-patches have a dead look at this hour. Tawny exhalations, as of -lingering day, flit about the Swiss mountains on our west. Some grass -has been mown up here, during the hot afternoon; the air is full of its -fragrance. - - * * * * * - -Blumenegg and such places--these are the surroundings in which children -ought to grow up. At home, domestic beasts of every kind, and gardens -and orchards; further afield, flowery meadows and forests; the -glittering snow of winter and cloudless summer skies; rock and rivulet; -a smiling patriarchal peasantry all about; these are the surroundings. -Keep them off the street-pavement. - -Impermanent things, like pavements and what they stand for, stimulate -the adult; they overstimulate children, who should be in contact with -eternities. In a town you may watch the progress of their warping; how -they grow up precocious and partially atrophied; defrauded of their full -heritage as human beings. Indeed all town-bred persons, with the rarest -exceptions, are incomplete, in a certain small sense of that word. They -show a gap which, unlike other gaps (deficient learning or manners) can -never be filled up in later years. The intelligent countryman does not -take long to appreciate the most complex wonders of civilization, -because his life began at the right end of things; your citizen will -only stare at those other wonders with more or less impatience: he began -at the wrong end. One can tell after five minutes’ conversation whether -a man has been brought up in city or country, for no townsman, be he of -what class he pleases, can hide his native imperfection. - -Or go to literature, the surest test, since _scripta manent_. It -happened to be my fate for some years to peruse daily a considerable -mass of the latest so-called lyric poetry, and a melancholy task it was -following these youngsters as they floundered about in a vain search -after new gods, unaware of the fact that the lyrical temper demands a -peculiar environment for its nurture, that gods are shy, and not to be -encountered in music-halls and restaurants, or even during a week-end at -the seaside. There were no eternities for these people, and consequently -no true joy, no true grief; no heights, no depths; they fell into two -categories: the hectic and the drab. The lyrical temper.... One uses -such expressions, without perhaps being clear as to their meaning. What -is the lyrical temper? A capacity to warble about buttercups? I should -describe it as a sympathetic feeling for the myriad processes of nature, -and the application of this gift towards interpreting human phenomena -with concision and poignancy; the sense, in short, of being borne along, -together with all else on earth, in a soft pantheistic commotion. - -That is a view of life which generates both tears and smiles, and one -which you will vainly seek in any town-bred writer. Compare Milton, not -with Theocritus or Shakespeare, but with a poet of the caliber of Ovid, -and you will realize how much more individual and authoritative his -utterance would be, had he enjoyed Ovid’s advantages in childhood. He -saw nature through books, say Mr. Tuckwell and Mr. Cotterill and all the -rest of them;[12] his scenery is charmingly manufactured according to -the renaissance prescription, and if you know your Italian poets you can -tell beforehand what Milton will have to say; a master of landscape -arrangement, without a doubt, but--he lacked what Ovid possessed, an -æsthetic personality; he was a moralist, as every one grows to be, who -takes his fellow-creatures at their own estimate. And how avoid doing -this, if you are always among them? For there they live clustered -together, and involuntarily disposed to attach undue significance to -themselves and their works, to lose their sense of proportion, until -some little interference from that despised exterior makes itself felt, -an earthquake or such-like, which gives these posturing ephemerals an -opportunity to straighten out their values again. - -Charles Lamb is another street-walker, and one whose relish of man and -his ways, to my taste, never cloys, inasmuch as it remains firm-fixed on -the hither side of lachrymosity. Yet is there not a certain shallowness -in his preoccupation with fellow-creatures? Shallowness suggests want of -depth; want of breadth is what I wish to imply. Zest, temperamental -zest, should be a fountain, scattering playfully in all directions; -Lamb’s comfortable variety is unilateral--a fountain gushing from a -wall. How many avenues of delight are closed to the mere moralist or -immoralist who knows nothing of things extra-human; who remains -absorbed in mankind and its half-dozen motives of conduct, so unstable -and yet forever the same, which we all fathomed before we were twenty! -Well, their permutations and combinations afford a little material for -playwrights and others, and there is no harm in going to the theater now -and then, or reading a novel, provided you have nothing better to do. - - - - -FATHER BRUHIN - -_Father Bruhin_ - - -This was a pious pilgrimage. - -Ages ago there used to come to our house a visitor, a friend of my -father’s, a Benedictine monk of the name of Bruhin. Of him I have, or -till yesterday thought to have, dim, childish memories. He lived in the -neighboring convent of St. Gerold--offshoot of the famous -Einsiedeln--and was a naturalist, a _rara avis_ hereabouts. I still -possess seven of his papers, mostly on the fauna and flora of this -particular province: thoroughly good work. He was a loving and accurate -student both of animals and plants, and of their literature. St. Gerold -is the second of various hamlets and villages in the long verdant -Walserthal on our east, up which now runs a convenient carriage road -ending (the road; not the valley) at the distant Buchboden, five hours’ -march away. We went there, because I was anxious to learn, if possible, -a few details of Bruhin’s life and to see whether their library -contained any other works by him. - -It is a pleasant, easy walk to St. Gerold, but the pilgrimage proved a -disappointment. In the Prior’s absence, the archives could not be -consulted; a young monk, a stranger who was undergoing a kind of -rest-cure here--he looked a little haggard--accompanied us up to the -library at the top of the building. It was well stored with books such -as one might expect to find there, but contained not a scrap by Bruhin. - -At the library our guide left us in charge of that old woman who has -haunted the premises from time immemorial; her hair has grown whiter -since last we met, her eyes are black as ever. She showed the way -through some of those comfortably furnished bedrooms with their fine -seventeenth century wood-carvings; into the church, which has been -tastefully redecorated and where the recent governmental brigandage has -not spared even the greater of the tin organ-pipes; finally down to the -kitchen which, like the organ, is worked by electricity. There she fed -Mr. R. on cider and cheese, saying she hoped they would soon be able to -receive guests again and keep them overnight, if necessary; at present, -everything was upside down, everything! - -Had the Prior been visible, our search might have led to something; he -was away on the mountains. Whether he resembles him of olden days? That -one, I remember, used to come down and see us, and could generally be -induced to stay for luncheon or dinner. It was his habit, while eating, -to produce a formidable smacking noise--Germans call it -_Schmatzen_--with his lips, a noise which we were strictly forbidden to -make. One day at mealtime I gave a splendid imitation of the Prior over -his soup, thinking that what was good enough for him would surely be -good enough for me, and hoping, at all events, to gain some little -applause. Instead of that, I was told: “Only His Reverence the Prior may -make that noise. When you are Prior, you shall make it too. Meanwhile, -try to eat like everybody else, unless you want to be sent out of the -room.” A damper.... - -So much for Bruhin. All we gleaned at St. Gerold was that he served as -“Co-operator” there from 1865 to 1868 and after that, presumably, left -the convent. If so, the monk whom I hazily recall must have been a -different one, unless Bruhin continued his visits to us from some other -quarter after 1868. The Bregenz libraries might contain more of his -writings; I shall look for them, if we go there.[13] - -Homewards again. On leaving one of those wooded torrents that seam the -road, a little incident was recalled to my mind by the sight of a -certain wayside shrine which stands here. We were once passing along, as -children, when we noticed that its door had been left open and a heap of -coppers laid inside by some pious person or persons for the benefit of -any poor travelers who might care to help themselves. I imagine it was -my sister’s idea. She took a handful, and persuaded me to take one too. -Nobody saw us; the governess was walking on ahead. She behaved even more -flagrantly on another occasion when a plateful of money was being held -aloft, for the same charitable purpose, among a congregation pouring out -of some church. She reached up and swiftly grabbed a number of coins; -perhaps I followed her example. Now what could we children want with -money? The delicacies of the village were only three: sugar-candy in -crystals, dried figs strung together, and black sticks of licorice -(_vulgo_ “Bährendreck”) and we had exhausted their charm long, long ago, -in the days of the old Anna. - -This nurse it was, by the way, who first took me to the hamlet of -Thüringerberg, where I now found myself walking with Mr. R. who had -induced me, for reasons which became apparent later on, to abandon the -main road in favor of one that leads due west. It shows how little she -then knew the country--she was a Tyrolese, not a native--that, after -dragging me up here, aged three or four, she had to enquire the name of -the place. I came home with a wonderful tale of having been to -Thüringerberg, which was not believed; old Anna, afterwards, got it hot -for making me walk too far. Up there, meanwhile, the kindly priest -invited us to his house to rest; he gave us coffee and honey, and even -offered me a pinch of his snuff--the first of several I have since -taken. - -Two roads descend from Thüringerberg in the direction of the distant -Satteins--the convenient new one down below, and the ancient track on -the higher level. Of course we chose the latter, that old, grass-grown, -abandoned path. Memories lurk about these forsaken places; and memories -have become my hobby during the last week or so. This particular track -reminds me of sundry strolls down here ages ago with a Sempill cousin, -the jovial Jumbo, who turned up in this country at odd intervals to our -infinite delight. He was so utterly different from all the other people -who arrived from those remote regions! The peasants adored him; he could -hold long conversations with them in their own language by imitating the -sound of their voices, which amused them mightily; he knew not a word of -German. He used to sit for hours in their orchards, drinking wine or -playing with the babies; when any one greeted him on the road with the -usual “Grüass Gott,” he would reply “Great Scot”; if they said “Gueta -Tag,” he said “Good dog.” What a relief was Jumbo, after those legions -of unspeakable grand-aunts! They never left us alone; they were always -pulling us about, as if we had no nurses or governesses of our own, to -teach us how to behave. Always interfering! You mustn’t eat this; you -mustn’t do that; little girls don’t climb trees; little boys ought to -know that cows are not made to be ridden about on; never jump down till -the carriage stops; you know what happened to Don’t Care? He was hanged; -have you said your prayers? Children should be seen and not heard; a -fourth helping? Now don’t do yourself any violence, dear; it’s long past -bed-time--how we loathed the entire clan! Nearly everything, in fact, -that hailed from Scotland was fraught with terrors. - -But the terror of terrors was our paternal grandmother. If the others of -that family resembled her, their descendants are to be pitied. And to -think that she may have been the best of all of them! I confess that, -looking over some photographs at this distance of time, I fail to see -anything terrible in her appearance; here she is, for instance, at -Llandudno, looking straight at you, grave and serene, with the long -upper lip peculiar to her family and a high forehead; rather a handsome -old woman, and one who evidently knows her mind. That may well be. -Handsome or not, she spanked me as an infant, before I could walk--so -much I remember clearly; what I cannot clearly remember is, whether she -had any plausible reason for doing it. Later on, she punished us in the -stern judicial manner which was agreeable to the taste of her generation -and which is precisely the one way children should never be punished. -Wonderful tales were told us of her methods of subduing her only -daughter, who died in youth--perhaps from the effects of it--and lies -buried under an elaborately inscribed tombstone in the Protestant -cemetery at Rome. No doubt she meant to do right; it is an old pretext -for doing wrong. Children should be “broken”: that was her theory. - -She never broke me. Something else happened one day, during the -Christmas holidays in England. I was in my twelfth year, all alone, -perfectly comfortable and perfectly well, delighted to have escaped for -a season out of some absurd school, and reading the “Mysteries of -Udolpho” in the library when the old thing entered with an all-too -familiar silver tray, bearing the abominable mixture known as “Gregory’s -Powder.” It was her universal remedy for every complaint of mine, from a -sprained ankle to a toothache, the principle being that, whatever might -be amiss, Gregory’s Powder, by virtue of its villainous taste alone, -must inevitably do good, if not as a medical preparation, then as an -incitement to humility and obedience. This filthy poison I had hitherto -swallowed like a lamb; and been made duly ill in consequence. On that -particular occasion, however, the sight of the tray stirred me as never -before; all the accumulated bile of similar torments in the past surged -up; it was my first experience of “seeing red.” Guided by a righteous -demon of revolt, I seized a stick which stood in a corner at my -elbow--an elaborate concern of hippopotamus-hide with carved ivory top, -which some good-for-nothing uncle had brought from Natal--and therewith -knocked the tray out of her hand and then went for her with such a dash -that she fled out of the room. It happened in the twinkling of an eye. I -knew not how the thing was done; it was plain, now, what people meant -when they said that So-and-so was “not responsible for his actions.” On -mature deliberation I decided, in the very words of the old lady, that -_all was for the best_. There was an end of Gregory’s Powder. That is -the way to treat grandmothers of this variety. She dared not tackle me; -she was too old and I too tough, being then in the habit of winning most -of the gymnastic prizes at school. As always before, she had tried to -impose upon me by sheer strength of personality, and suddenly, for the -first time, found herself confronted by a new and persuasive -argument--brute force. - -Well! To attack your grandmother with a walking-stick is not polite. On -the other hard, there is no reason why boys should be needlessly -tortured; they suffer quite enough, as it is. If I had not acted as I -did, she would have continued to poison me with the stuff to the end of -her long life. Why suffer, when you can avoid it? And there I leave this -ethical problem. For the rest, in her heart of hearts, she was perhaps -not quite so “surprised and grieved” (a favorite phrase of hers, like “I -sincerely hope and trust”) as she professed to be; so strong was her -family sense that she may well have been charmed with this premature -exhibition of ancestral savagery; maybe she was anxiously waiting for it -to appear, and chose Gregory’s Powder as a kind of test or provocative. -If so, it worked. One thing is certain: referring to the episode, she -told another of those old women, who repeated it to me long afterwards, -that I was plainly the son of my father--good news, so far as it -went.... - -Phantoms! - -Meanwhile we wandered along that ancient track towards the sunset, with -the spacious Ill valley at our feet, and on its further side, the -Rhætikon peaks which had grown more imposing in proportion as we -ourselves had mounted upwards. On these slopes they were gathering the -cherries with ladders; diminutive fruit on enormous trees. Here are also -wild maples, those pleasant Alpine growths that clamber down from their -homes overhead and indulge in a tasteful habit of clothing trunk and -branches in a vesture of dusky green moss. The wood is so white that it -is used--the nearest approach to ivory--for fashioning the sculptured -images of the Crucified which one sees everywhere. The fairest maple in -the whole district is that which forms a landmark on the path between -Raggal and Ludescherberg; you can see it from the other side of the -Walserthal, three miles off. - -Presently we found ourselves in one of those narrow dells common -hereabouts, dells that run parallel to the main valley, east and west; -they may be due to ice-action in the past. It is curious, in such -places, to observe how the plants select their aspect according to -whether they relish sunshine or not; there are two different floras -growing within twenty yards of each other. Here, on our left, gushes out -a noble spring; it accompanies us, forming a succession of flowery -marshes. They are still there--the bulrushes in the last of its -hill-girdled swamps; this is one of the three places where bulrushes can -be found. Thereafter you pass that peasant’s house, solitary and -prosperous--what winter landscapes must be visible from its -windows!--and enter the wood. Our path, once well trodden, is now hard -to follow. It begins to lose itself---- - -Ah, and the old woman’s mania against tobacco; I had nearly forgotten -this. It was sincere, like all else in her nature, yet incredible in -its intensity. Somewhere about the fifties she ordered a pair of boots -from the local man, under the condition that he was not to smoke while -making them. They arrived. “That man has smoked!” she declared, and -refused to accept them; she knew from their smell that he had broken his -agreement (of course he had). This legend was still current here in the -nineties. Up in Scotland, despite the visitors, she never allowed a -smoking-room to be built. We were not permitted to smoke even in the -grounds. A military cousin, a distinguished man, was told that if he -wished to smoke after dinner he could walk to the end of the drive, and -indulge his low tastes on the main road. My sister used to shoulder her -rod and go “fly-fishing” at the most improbable hours and seasons of the -year, solely in order to be able to enjoy her cigarette in peace. - -She expired in grand style, up there. We were chamois-shooting at Lech, -not far from here,[14] when a message came to the effect that she was -at the point of death. We packed up and rushed to the Highlands, losing -a whole day at Calais because the boats could not run on account of a -storm. On our arrival, the doctor said, “She ought to have been dead -four days ago.” None the less, she had made up her mind not to depart -till everything was in order. She went through her will, clause by -clause. Was there any objection to this or that? Had she done the right -thing by So-and-so? Or had she perhaps forgotten anything? It was all in -perfect order, we assured her. She gave us a fine old-fashioned -blessing, and was dead a few hours later.... - -And now we were threading our way through a veritable tangle, a -branch-charmed tangle, and the light overhead grew dimmer. A golden -suspense was brooding over the forest. How sweet, how _intimate_, are -these hours of late afternoon under the trees, when all is voiceless and -drowned in mellow radiance; how they conjure up sensations of -other-where, and cleanse the miry places of the mind! - -A few years hence, and every trace of this old path will have vanished. -It ended, for us, in a kind of gulley; the gulley ended in the new road -lower down. And where did the new road end? - -Where else, but at Tiefis? - - * * * * * - -The mention of Llandudno reminds me that I may have been unfair to that -old grandmother. For I knew full well that she detested places like -Llandudno or Clifton or Cheltenham, and yet she would take us there for -the Easter holidays at our own request, in order that we might gratify a -taste for fossils; which is surely to her credit. Not every grandmother -would have made such a sacrifice for two objectionable boys. As a -set-off to this, however, I must record that she used to make me play -Wagner to her, much against my will--an inexplicably modern trait of -hers, this love of Wagner, and all the more singular since he, at that -time, was accounted a dangerous lunatic. (Perhaps she only asked me to -play because at such moments, at least, I could not be up to any other -devilry.) She also insisted on our both reading “Marmion” aloud; partly -because it was her dear dead husband’s favorite poem, and partly on -account of a family legend to the effect that certain of its cantos were -composed on our property. Can that have improved its flavor? - -“Marmion” we thought dreadful rot. To revenge ourselves, we made a farce -of these recitals, by going through the lines in a toneless voice and -laying stress not where the poet and common sense meant it to lie, but -on that precise syllable where, by the structure of the verse, it came -to lie; let any one read a page of “Marmion” according to this recipe, -and note the rich and unforeseen results! It was only by a miracle that -we managed to keep our countenance; or rather, not by a miracle at all, -but by a systematic education in the art of “not exploding.” The old -lady writhed and squirmed under this outrage upon her divine Sir Walter, -but said never a word; gulping down her discomfort with the same air of -dour determination with which, at dinner, and solely to set us a good -example, she gulped down indigestible fragments of plum-pudding, -roly-poly and other hyperborean horrors glistening with suet, although -well aware that such things are not fit for human consumption. Of course -we were obliged to gulp them down too, with this difference, that she -had Madeira and port to wash the taste out of her mouth, while we only -got claret, which made it worse. What a life! - - - - -RAIN - -_Rain_ - - -Rain once more.... - -“Now this is the _comble_,” said Mr. R. this morning, entering my room -with a pair of boots in his hand. - -“What’s up?” - -“Look!” - -They had inserted new laces, without having been asked to do anything of -the kind. - -Every day, and all day long, similar little experiences are thrust upon -him; he has lived in a state of chronic amazement since his arrival. -That is not surprising. His acquaintance with the life of taverns has -been confined to those of Italy and of France; the unpunctuality and -brawling of the one, the miserliness and thinly veiled insolence of the -other--the general discomfort of both. “Nobody will believe me,” he -says, “when I tell them how one lives in these villages. Fortunately I -have my diary.” - -Our bill of fare has varied with every meal; only once were they obliged -to apologize for giving us the same meat, venison, on two days running, -and even then it was prepared differently. With the exception of -_Hasenpfeffer_--close season for hares till 1st of September--we have -gone through that entire list of local delicacies, and thereto added -several more. - -These people really make one feel at home. There is an all-pervading -sense of peace and plenty, of comfort, in a word; not discomfort. -Everything is in order, and the place so clean that you could dine on -the floors. The household works like a well-oiled machine--if you can -imagine a machine that wears throughout its parts a perennial smile. -Kindliness is the tone of this house; of the whole village; of all these -villages. It does one good to live among such folk. It is doing Mr. R. -more good than he imagines. He begins to realize what is hard to realize -in Mediterranean countries: that men can be affable and ample, and yet -nowise simpletons. Match-boxes given away gratis; beefsteaks that you -cannot possibly finish; four vegetables to every course of meat; -electric lights burning night and day; fresh towels all the time; apples -and pears thrown to the pigs; mountains of butter and lakes of honey for -breakfast--in fact, a system of wanton _gaspillage_ that would send a -French house-wife into epileptics. All this, I tell him, is the merest -shadow of what was. And among the numerous visitors to our inn there is -never a harsh word; no sullenness, no raised voices, no complaints. We -hear the house door being shut down below, every night, amid cheery talk -and laughter. - -Yet three out of five village taverns are closed--disastrous symptom, -among so convivial a people. The depreciation of the currency.... There -are men, respectable men, who have not tasted a drop of wine for the -last year, which is a shameful state of affairs. Only factory hands and -such-like can afford to pay the present price of 8000 kronen for half a -liter. Less than that sum, namely 7000, was what our tailor gave for his -two-storied house with a garden and field. We watched a pig-auction the -other day (where else, but at Tiefis?). A young one, weighing about -seventy pounds, went for 610,000 kronen. In olden days, they would have -made you a present of him. - -The peasants are particularly hard hit this year. Our valley has always -been celebrated for its fertility, the result of age-long tillage and -manuring, and whoever walks to-day about those cultivated fields, -ignorant of their normal condition, might think that these crops of hay, -wheat, maize, tobacco (every one may plant his own tobacco; the trouble -begins, when you try to make it smokable), beans, hemp, flax, potatoes, -cabbage, beetroot, poppies, pumpkins and what not, look sufficiently -thriving. That is a mistake. The fruit-harvest promises well; these -fields are in a bad way. The _Engerlinge_, the larvæ of the cockchafer, -have been unusually active of late. This miserable worm which lives -underground, gnawing away the roots, had hitherto been kept in its place -by the moles. But during the war and afterwards moles were destroyed as -never before, for the sake of their skins. A mole eats one and a half -times its own weight every day; he prefers the _Engerlinge_ to all other -food. So the larvæ now thrive, because the war was responsible for the -death of the moles. One result of the war, so far as this little -economic byway is concerned. - -Other results. A favorite method of preventing damage by _Engerlinge_ is -to kill the cockchafer itself. They used to be murdered by myriads, -either while flying about at night, or in the early morning when they -cling, weary and drunk with dew, to the trees. Boys would do this for a -trifling sum, or for the fun of the thing. They are too busy nowadays; -they must do the work of those who were killed. And of those who have -free time on their hands, the decent ones refuse the job because they -are ashamed to ask the prices now ruling (and their fathers will not let -them take less); the others demand so much that the peasant cannot pay -them. Our village elders have done their best to face the mischief. They -have decided that every land-owner must bring in a certain measure of -cockchafers or deposit a certain sum of money; whoever collects more -than this stipulated measure, is paid extra out of the sum deposited by -the others; whoever fails to come up to the standard, is fined in -proportion. The provincial government has also forbidden the destruction -of moles, and to-day’s paper, now lying before me, contains an eloquent -article entitled “Spare the moles!” - -It is too late. The village of Bratz (=_pratum_), for example, is so -sorely tried by the plague of these larvæ that a rich peasant owning, -let us say, six cows, will not be able to cut enough fodder to keep them -alive through the winter; his crop of hay is too impoverished. What -shall he do? He is in the dilemma of seeing a couple of his beasts -perish from starvation, or of selling them at their present value, -although fully aware that by the time spring comes round and fodder is -again plentiful, he will not be able, with the same amount of money, to -purchase even a quarter of a cow to eat his grass; so rapid is the -depreciation of the currency. - -In this and other matters the peasantry, the backbone of the province, -is being systematically ruined. The blow was undeserved. They were -dragged into this tragic farce through no fault of their own, and are -now paying for the folly of others. True, they revenge themselves on the -rich factory hands and bureaucrats; they charge fantastic prices for -milk and other agricultural products. The others retaliate by burning -their hay-huts. There was a good deal of incendiarism in the Bludenz -district last winter. Mutual ill-will is the result. And their so-called -betters, the _rentiers_ who, after a life of drudgery in office or -elsewhere, laid aside sufficient money to build themselves a house -wherein to end their days, are in still more pitiable plight. Such is -the case of an old gentleman of my acquaintance at Bludenz, who had -worked from the age of fourteen till after seventy, and had been able to -acquire what seemed a considerable fortune. What are even a million -kronen to-day? And how is he to earn more, at the age of eighty-six? - -Industrial workmen, no doubt, are doing uncommonly well; that English -eight hours’ nonsense fosters their pretensions, and as often as they -consider their pay insufficient, they go on strike and obtain more. The -bureaucrats also thrive in a lesser degree. There is an employee to -every five men in this country; a scandalous plethora, but who would not -be an employee--one of the few careers whereby a native, under existing -circumstances, may hope to escape starvation? So do we foreigners. For -apartments, lighting, laundry, repairs to clothes and boots, food which -for excellence and variety would be unprocurable, pay what you please, -in any English village five times the size of this one, for as much -wine, beer, _schnapps_ and cider as we can hold we pay a sum which -works out, for both together, at three shillings a day. This includes an -additional 10 per cent on the total, which I insist upon paying for -service, though it cost some little argument before I could make them -accept it. Such are the results of the “Valuta,” so far as Englishmen -are concerned. - -Valuta: that is one of three words which you may now for the first time -hear repeated from mouth to mouth. The other two are “Anschluss” and -“Miliz.” These matters have been adequately discussed in our own Press; -I will only say, as regards the last of them, that no government, -however wise and well-intentioned, can enforce its wishes if you take -away its means of doing so: a militia. One does not expect high-priced -inter-allied experts to be equipped with either sympathy or imagination; -that would be asking too much. They should, at least, possess a little -common sense and knowledge of history. Western Europe, scared to death -of bolshevism in Russia, is busily engaged in manufacturing it -elsewhere; and if this once gentlemanly province now exhales, as does -the rest of the country, a strong reek of communistic fumes, it is our -experts who are to blame. Ah, well! When the broth is boiling, the scum -invariably rises to the top and stays there, until some businesslike -_chef_ comes along, to cream off this filthy product and throw it down -the drain. - -Valuta: wondrous are its workings. There is hardly an ounce of butter -procurable in Bludenz, which is enclosed in grazing grounds. Where has -it all gone? Over the mountains, into Switzerland. Valuta! Your Austrian -smuggler is delighted; he receives five times the price he would get if -he sold the stuff in his own country, and in Swiss money too, which may -have doubled in worth by the time he reaches home again. Your Swiss -buyer is delighted; he pays less than half the price he would have to -pay for his own product. The local poor suffer, meanwhile, especially -the children; for the nutritive value of butter, in the shape of -_Schmalz_, is great, and this condiment used to figure in all their -principal dishes, and would be doubly needful now that meat is quite -beyond their reach. Altogether, these children--a shadow seems to have -passed over them, witnessing the distresses of their parents. They are -paler than they used to be, and graver of mien; far too many are -insufficiently clad and unshod. An Englishman might think ten shillings -a reasonable price for a pair of sound children’s boots; the native -cannot afford 110,000 kronen, a sum for which formerly he could have -bought half a village. Even the post-boy, a lively youngster who happens -to be a grandson of that old gardener of ours, presents himself up here -every morning without shoes or stockings. He has none. - -I glance, for further informative matter, down the columns of that paper -which bids us “Spare the moles!” and observe that it contains, among its -advertisements, an offer by a furrier of two hundred kronen for each -moleskin brought to him. This does not sound as if the provincial -government’s decree were being enforced very drastically. The same -gentleman is ready to pay exactly a thousand times as much for the skin -of pine martens, which can be worth little enough at this warm season of -the year. The animal is of the greatest scarcity in our -neighborhood.[15] - -And here is a final, thrilling item. The midwives of Feldkirch, -assembled in conclave, have regretfully decided that the charges for -attendance are to be doubled in future. - -Midwives, I suspect, are not the only professional ladies who have -lately been obliged to raise their tariff. - -Towards nightfall, a gleam of sunshine after the rain. Out for a stroll, -after dinner.... - -They have anointed our boots with badger’s fat, in case we traverse any -wet fields. We are only going along the main road towards Ludesch. That -bench on the old Lutz embankment--that bench invariably occupied by a -poor hump-backed woman reading--is sure to be empty at this hour. - -It is. We sit down to smoke under the dripping firs, and I go -ghost-hunting all alone, in the dark. The memories that are crowded into -these few hundred yards! They spring up at my feet, from the damp forest -earth. There was once a battle on this site, a sanguinary battle between -two rival gypsy bands who used it for their camping ground and -accidentally arrived both on the same evening; each claimed it for his -own, and several men were killed before the matter was decided; our -people were talking about the fray years afterwards. Further on, past -the bridge, I murdered the first snake of many and found my first piece -of phosphorescent wood. Here, too, stands the rifle-range which is -connected with one of six clear memories of my father; he used to come -out of the place adorned with paper decorations for his marksmanship and -they even hung up a framed diploma of honor to him; the building was -sacked two years ago by some local revolutionaries who disapproved of -shooting in every form and carried off the diploma, but forgot to -efface its mark on the wall where it had hung for fifty years. - -Nearly opposite to where we are sitting is a deep incline of grass--I -take it to be the bank of the prehistoric Lutz; my father once made me -rush up and down this terrific slope in preparation, no doubt, for -mountaineering. The quarry close by, in which one hunted vainly for -crystals (it is Eocene, and has nothing but spar) is still there, but -those mysterious black hillocks by the roadside with their unforgettable -smell, where the charcoal-burners plied their trade, are gone and a -thriving house and orchard have stepped into their place. The Madonna -shrine, further on, is quite unchanged; here the old Anna used to lift -me up to gaze at the Mother of God standing, as She does to this day, -upon an earth girt about by the green Serpent of Evil. At the back of -our bench there used to be a deep, square hole in the ground. My sister -and I once informed a newly arrived German governess that it was a -disused elephant trap. She said nothing but, on returning home, -complained bitterly of our untruthful habits. That plantation of young -trees across the road was once a bare, thistle-strewn heath, a _Haide_, -the sole locality where, year after year, one could catch white -admirals. So there were just two well-known places where you might rely -upon a scarlet tiger, and neither more nor less than three, where there -was a chance of seeing, though probably not of catching, a -_Trauermantel_ (Camberwell beauty). Butterflies were dropped, when -stones began. - -And all this time Mr. R. has had nothing whatever to say. He has grown -rather silent of late, his superciliousness begins to evaporate: that -augurs well! My theory works--I have observed it for some time past; my -theory of the benign influence of woodland scenery upon the character of -youth. How much more inspiring to live in such a pastoral and sylvan -environment than on the pavements of a town! Instead of troubling about -theaters and girls, his mind may well be occupied with some small -literary or social problem that befits his age; why Racine went back to -antiquity for the subjects of his tragedies, or whether Ronsard really -deserves all the praises bestowed upon him. That is as it should be! At -last I enquire: - -“What have you been dreaming about, this last half hour?” - -“Dreaming? Not at all. I have been thinking very seriously.” - -“What about?” - -“What about? About Goethe’s ‘Hermann and Dorothea.’” - -“Ah! I thought so. You are getting on famously. Now, to begin with: -where did you become acquainted with that masterpiece?” - -“In a French translation, last Christmas. And I was just thinking how -true it is, what the mother tells Hermann--when he is in love, you -know--you remember?--about the night growing to be the better part of -day----” - -“Say no more. You are indulging certain thoughts about Tiefis.” - -“Why not? Perfectly proper ones.” - -“I might have expected this. Very well. It is a little late to-night, -but I suppose we shall have to go there to-morrow. I only hope you share -Hermann’s exalted sentiments and his purity of heart. Because otherwise, -you understand, I could never be an accomplice to such an affair.” - - - - -ANTS - -_Ants_ - - -That was a monster of an ant-hill. It was the largest, by far the -largest, I ever saw in this country, and the floor of the forest all -around was twinkling with these priggish insects. Anxious to have some -idea of its true size and anxious, at the same time, not to have any of -the nuisances crawling up my own legs, I made Mr. R. pace its -circumference. It took him _sixteen_ good strides. And there they were, -myriads upon myriads of them, hiving up for their own selfish purpose -those dried fir-needles which, left alone, would have yielded a rich -soil to future generations of men. - -I have no use for ants, and cannot regard an ant-heap without yearning -to stamp it flat (those made of earth are not difficult to treat in this -fashion); without regretting that I lack the tongue and tastes of an -anteater. And only in the tropics do you realize what a diabolical pest -they may become with their orderly habits; European ants being mere -amateurs in obnoxiousness. To do everything you are supposed to do, and -nothing else at all; never to make a mistake, or, if you do, to be -invariably punished for it in exact proportion to the offense: can -there be a more contemptible state of affairs? That is why, even as a -boy, I used to foster the independent little fellows called _myrmeleon_ -(ant-lion) who built their artful, funnel-shaped traps in the dry sand -out of reach of showers, just where our house-walls touched the ground; -foster them, and visit them periodically, and feed them with these -insufferable communists till they were ready to burst. But oh, to be an -authentic anteater on a Gargantuan scale--omnipresent, insatiable of -appetite--and engulf that entire tribe of automata! - -One of my countless grievances against the ant family is that a clever -person, long ago, told me that, in order to have the flesh properly -removed from the skull of any bird or beast, you have only to lay it in -an ant-hill; the insects would do the job to a turn and thank you, into -the bargain, for allowing them to do it; work of this kind, he declared, -was quite a specialty of their department. Accordingly, I once deposited -an extremely valuable relic in the center of a prosperous ant-colony, -expecting to find it ready for me, picked clean, after a due lapse of -time. On arriving to call for my property, however, a fortnight or so -later, I was surprised to find it gone; the methodical socialists had -mislaid it, and I never saw it again. One took such losses to heart in -those days. I therefore went all the way home once more, determined to -get my own job done more conscientiously than theirs, and fetched a rake -wherewith this slovenly establishment was leveled to the ground. But oh, -for a rake that would rake every ant-hill off the face of the earth! - -That happened in my bird-killing period, when I used to get up at the -improbable hour of 3:30 a.m. and, putting in my _Rucksack_ some bread -and smoked bacon-fat and a flask of Kirsch, vanish into the wilds, -returning home any time after nightfall or not at all: judge if I saw -some ant-hills! So I roved about, and the first thing I ever murdered, -an hour after receiving that single-barreled gun, was a melancholy brown -owl that blinked at me from its perch below the Bährenloch at Bludenz; -the slaughter of this charming bird was taken as a good omen. Soon came -other guns, and other birds, not all of which shared the fate of the -owl. Never shall I forget a certain pratincole. It was the only one I -have yet seen in this province, a great rarity, and it settled down for -a whole summer season in the reservoir region along the upper Montiola -brook, where it relied upon its disconcerting flight and a trick of -rising from the ground at the one and only spot where you could not -possibly expect it to do so, to mock all my attempts at bringing it -down. I was after it so often that we got to know each other perfectly -well, and never bagged it; thereby proving the truth of the local -proverb “Every day is hunting day, but not every day is catching day.” -Queer experiences one had, too. At the age of fourteen I was once -resting on my homeward way in the woods near Gasünd, dead tired but -uncommonly pleased with myself for having just shot a hazel -grouse--again, the only one I ever saw in the province. There came one -of those flocks of titmice--is not titmouses the correct -English?--accompanied, no doubt, by the inevitable tree-creeper. They -amused themselves in the branches overhead and one of them soon struck -me as unfamiliar; its size and shape and movements were those of a great -tit, but there were unmistakable red feathers on the head and neck. I -watched it hopping from twig to twig, annoyed to think that I had shot -away my last cartridge, and wondering what this rare mountain bird could -be, for I never doubted of its actuality; there it was, before my eyes! -Only later did I learn that no such bird exists. Now had the vision been -brought about by my state of bodily exhaustion? And was the dream-bird -created out of one of those present, or out of nothing at all? Illusion, -or hallucination? - -Presently certain regions became famous for certain game; in that larch -wood between Bürs and Bürserberg, for instance, which takes on such -wonderful tints in autumn and which you can enter through a natural arch -called the “Kuhloch,” you might count on crossbills and on a woodpecker -of one kind or another (never on the scarce black one; it haunts the -gloomiest forests). Of the lesser spotted species I shot two off the -same tree at an interval of almost exactly a year--30 December in one -year, and 28 December the next; a circumstance all the more singular, as -I never in my life met with another individual of this bird in the whole -country. Or, if you wanted a great gray shrike, you had only to go, -preferably in winter, to the Scesa-tobel, that devastated tract west of -Bürs which was just then beginning to cover itself with vegetation once -more. Here you might also put up a hare; it was in the Scesa-tobel, by -the purest of accidents, that I once shot a hare in full gallop at a -distance of a hundred yards--a mere speck, he was--with a bullet. I -confessed afterwards to Mattli, who was beating another part of this -torrent, that I had missed him at close quarters with the shot barrel, -and soon regretted having made this confession; there are things one -might well keep to oneself. - -Mattli, whatever his real name may have been, was often with me on such -excursions, and I know not how he managed to combine these trips with -his official duties as station-master; for station-master he was, at our -own station, which was then called Strassenhaus. To be sure, one could -take things easier in those days (the building itself was less than half -its present size); so easy, that the man who was employed to guard the -line a quarter of a mile lower down, used to put up, for several -consecutive years, a dummy figure of himself standing upright beside his -cabin in the wood, in order to make the night-train people think he was -at his post, while he went to booze in a tavern at Ludesch. Yet Mattli’s -weakness must have been found out in the end; the last time I saw him, -he was degraded from his high rank and working in some subordinate -capacity at Bludenz station. - -Mattli never felt comfortable unless tracking birds; and his tales of -how he shot a great white heron here and a bee-eater there, and -something else somewhere else, were enough to make any one’s mouth -water. He took me in hand, during those lean and hungry years; what the -_Brunnenmacher_ had done towards fostering my instincts for climbing, -Mattli did for the more destructive ones; and a greater contrast was -never seen than between these two early mentors of mine. The -_Brunnenmacher_ was short and fat and bearded and fair-haired and -laughing, like many of them hereabouts; Mattli would have struck you at -the first glance as something apart from his fellows, something -primordial. He towered above the average height, he stooped from sheer -tallness; the very scarecrow of a man, dusky, clean-shaven, sallow of -complexion, with a harassed and hunted look in his eye and a voice that -seemed to come from caverns far away. A lonely, wolfish creature! I -never saw him smile. His rarer birds he sold to Mr. Honstetter, the -taxidermist of Bregenz, who doubtless disposed of them elsewhere and -through whose hands passed nearly every curiosity--lämmergeier, eider -duck, cormorant, griffon vulture and what not--which had been obtained -in the province or even further afield. He once offered me the skull and -horns of a genuine Swiss ibex, and a beaver stuffed by himself which had -been killed on the Elbe on the 10 August, 1886; he wanted 175 Swiss -francs for this last. The only thing I ever bought there was the skin of -an _ibis falcinellus_ shot at Hard on the Lake of Constance; it cost me -two and a half florins.[16] - -Bregenz, however, seldom kept me for more than half a day, since I -preferred chasing birds to seeing them stuffed. So I scoured these upper -regions over field and forest and rock, covering immeasurable distances -and never following a path unless obliged to do so, up to the snow-line -and down again, sleeping in hay-huts or remote villages; and judge if I -saw some ant-hills by the way; ant-hills in every possible situation; -the strangest, after all, being those of dry sand, fetched from God -knows where and transported God knows how, and reared-up, -Amsterdam-wise, in the middle of watery marshes. - -And that particular one, which has led me into this digression--where -was it? - -Where else, but near Tiefis? - -For it stands to reason that we went to that village again, after our -nocturnal conversation on the Lutz embankment, in order to visit what -Mr. R. calls “the innkeepress and his beautiful girl.” - -There we sat, all four of us, in that spotlessly clean room, and my -companion after consuming his usual horrible mixture--two boiled eggs -and a glass of _saft_ (a strong kind of cider, of greenish -tinge)--straightway opened a fusillade of glances from his flashing -black eyes, to which the “baby,” so far as I could see, was not -insensible. - -Her mother, meanwhile, told me what she had heard about the cause of -that outbreak of fire which destroyed nearly all the place in 1866. It -seems that a party were sitting up one night, as is the custom, beside -the dead body of some friend who had expired during the day and, as is -also the custom under these mournful circumstances, began to think of -refreshing themselves with coffee. There was no milk in the house and it -was decided to go into the stable and milk the cow; some straw -accidentally took fire from the candle they carried; this started the -mischief. Several people were burnt to death on that occasion. A second -fire took place in 1868. She said there were only two or three of the -old houses left; one of them bearing the date 1678---- - -“What is she talking about?” enquired Mr. R. - -“About a fire they had here.” - -“Can’t you two argue outside? And before you go just tell me the German -for _embrassez-moi_, will you?” - -“How can I tell you, with the mother in the room?” - -“Then get her out. Talk to her about wine, in the cellar or somewhere.” - -“Easier said than done. I think she has intercepted your wireless -symbols. They are visible to the naked eye. One could almost catch them -in a butterfly net.” - -“Do you suggest that I was winking, or trying to make eyes?” - -“Oh, quite involuntarily.” - -For one moment, it looked as if his wish were to be gratified. The -mother rose from her seat and, opening the door, made as though to enter -the kitchen; everything, unfortunately, must have been in order there, -for after two paces in the passage she returned to her place beside me -once more. That fire--yes! Nowadays, of course, the danger of -conflagrations on this scale was growing less and less;[17] the villages -were all lighted by electricity, down to the very stables; those -inflammable wooden houses, too, were being supplanted by brick or stone, -“or the abominable cement,” I added---- - -Meanwhile, that fusillade proceeded without interruption. The “baby” was -brightening up under its friendly glow, smiling her innocent smile and -sometimes glancing at me as if for confirmation of her pleasure; the -mother talked. - -“Is the old one never going? Because, for the matter of that, I can do -it without saying anything at all; and I will. I would give fifty years -of my life.... Just one kiss. I don’t want anything more.” - -“I should hope not. Listen to me for a moment,” I went on. “Only a -puritan would see any great harm in young people kissing each other, -with or without their parents’ consent; I feel sure that many happy -marriages would never have come about at all but for some such playful -preliminaries, and your Dorothea, I must say, looks as if she would not -object very violently, provided you did it in a laughing, brotherly -fashion. Why should she? Our girls are far too simple-minded to attach -that sacramental importance to a kiss which the southern ones do. -Observe therefore: I do not pose as a puritan. But please observe also -that I am taking for granted that you are serious, both of you, like -Hermann and Dorothea; otherwise, of course, I could never be a -party----” - -“Get her out. Get her out.” - -“I should like to help you. But you know perfectly well that my -acquaintance with the art of outwitting or circumventing parents is of -the slightest, and that therefore, quite apart from any moral scruples I -might entertain----” - -“Get her out.” - -The “old one” seemed to have taken root. She explained that the -fire-brigades, too, were more efficient than they used to be; every -village had its own apparatus, and fixed drill on certain days, and -fines for those who failed to attend, unless they could show good cause -for their absence, such as having to cart their hay in at a moment’s -notice on account of some threatening thunderstorm---- - -At last Mr. R. remarked: - -“It is all your fault, for making yourself so infernally polite to her. -I have often noticed that you cannot leave elderly women alone.” - -“Excuse me; I make it my business to be civil with everybody, young or -old. For the rest, I should be inclined to blame your marconigrams, -which are enough to scare any mother. I wonder the poor child is not -roasted.” - -“Roasted! Old men are always cynics.” - -“Young men are generally fools.” - -There was that fire at Nüziders as well; how long ago? Fifty years, was -it? Perhaps a little more. A tremendous blaze, from all accounts; far -worse than Tiefis; and the Fön was blowing so fiercely that sparks were -carried right over the Hanging Stone, they said, while people in Ludesch -and Thüringen were kept busy all night throwing water on their wooden -roofs---- - -“To oblige me,” interposed Mr. R., “just order another quarter liter of -wine for yourself. I have thought of something; it is my last chance. -She may have to go downstairs to fetch it. If she does, run after her -and say you made a mistake; you want a half. Come back as slowly as -possible. Cough, before you enter the door.” - -The half-liter happened to be on the spot. Decidedly, Mr. R. was having -no luck that day. After a very long visit, we bade farewell and walked -up past the Bädle inn, Mr. R. complaining grumpily: - -“Now what am I to do?” - -“Well, you might review the situation, like Hermann did. If I were in -your place, I should have no objection to being ultimately connected, by -marriage, with the management of a tavern; the position strikes me as -offering sundry advantages over the common lot of man. So think it over -and, when you have made up your mind for good and all, confide in me and -rest assured that I shall be only too delighted to act as interpreter -between you and the parents, provided, of course, that your intentions -are as honorable as they ought to be.” - -“Is this the time to make fun of me?” - -How sensitive they are, these young people of the guileless variety! - -The path we were now following, from the Tiefis “Bädle” to the source of -the Montiola brook and thence to the reservoirs, is one of my special -favorites. The ground rises slowly, and soon you reach a miniature -watershed; whatever drains off behind you flows down westwards and finds -its way into the “ruisseau des écrevisses”; the Montiola drops towards -the east, at first. Before reaching its source you traverse a wood which -Mr. R. immediately christened “la forêt nordique”; he has never seen -such a forest save in pictures, yet it certainly recalls them to me, -each of the firs resembling its fellow and all at their most -uninteresting life-period; this tract must have been cut down and -replanted half a century ago, or less.[18] - -On issuing from this “forêt nordique” you are already in the Montiola -basin, a luscious dank valley surrounded by wooded heights. Presently, -on your right, at the foot of the hill, you discern the Montiola -fountain. It is an exuberant spring overhung by firs and beeches; almost -the entire volume of the streamlet rises at this one point, and you will -do well to rest awhile on those mossy stones, as I have done many and -many a time, listening to the glad sound of bubbling waters and letting -your eye roam across the narrow sunlit vale into the woodlands on its -other side. From here the Montiola meanders for half a mile or so, icy -cold and full of trout, through a flowery swamp region towards the -reservoirs, where it takes its theatrical plunge into the village below. - -A distant rocky peak, just to the left of the Hoher Frassen, confronts -you on stepping out of the _northern forest_. This is the “Rothe Wand” -which, considering its respectable height of 2701 meters, is a decidedly -coy mountain, and more clever at hiding itself than most of them; you -may obtain another clear view of it from the platform of Frastanz -station. It seems incredible that this “Red Wall” which is now climbed -by a hundred tourists every year, should in the days of my father have -been deemed so inaccessible that he thought it worth while to describe -an ascent of it in the transactions of our Alpine Club (1868) in which -he speaks of it as “almost unknown.” The country has indeed changed -since those days, and few pinnacles are left unclimbed; I can mention -one of them, at least, for the benefit of anybody who cares to give it a -trial. This is the so-called “Wildkirchle” or “Hexenthurm,” a fragment -of the Kanisfluh _massif_ near Mellau, a rock-needle; it has the -apparent advantage of being only 140 meters high. All the same, no one -has yet stood on its summit, though many have tried to do so; only a -couple of weeks ago (23 July, 1922) two young men lost their lives while -attempting the feat. My sister, who was the first woman that ever got up -the Zimba--and well I remember the state of her leather knickers when -she came down again--also had a try at the “Hexenthurm,” a little -exploit of which I only learnt after her death. She and a guide, from -all accounts, were roped together and wound themselves aloft somewhat -after the fashion of a nigger climbing a cocoa-palm (I cannot quite -visualize the operation); at a certain moment they were only too happy -to be able to wind themselves down again. - -These were the sports she loved; and I marvel to this hour what made her -adopt the married state--she who cared no more for the joys of -domesticity than does a tomcat. Talked into it, I fancy, by some stupid -relation who ought to have known better. - - * * * * * - -While strolling homewards from that Montiola fountain hallowed by many -memories of my past, I took to relating to my companion all I knew -concerning my father’s fatal accident, which occurred as he was chamois -shooting not far from the Rothe Wand; he fell down a ghastly precipice. -Forthwith Mr. R., who has an imaginative and impressionable turn of -mind, besought me to take him up there and show him the exact site on -the condition, of course, that nothing but English was to be spoken -during the trip. Well, why not? No harm in that, no harm whatever; the -excursion may distract him, and he has so far seen nothing of these -upper Alpine regions. I would gladly go there over the Spuller lake, but -cannot bear to see the place again in its changed condition; for this -fair sheet of water is now being mauled about by a legion of navvies for -the purpose of some miserable railway electrification. Instead of that, -we can take the train to Dalaas and mount to the Formarin lake, which -lies even nearer to the scene of the accident.[19] - - - - -GAMSBODEN - -_Gamsboden_ - - -There is nothing to tell of our walk to the Formarin lake which lies -under the precipitous red crags (a kind of marble called _Adneter Kalk_) -of the Rothe Wand and thence to the summit of the grass-topped -Formaletsch--nothing, save that the Alpine flowers, not so much the -rhododendrons[20] as the yellow violets, were a source of considerable -interest to my companion. I could have shown him the scarcer Edelraute -(_Artemisia mutellina_) which grows on some rocks near the east foot of -that hill, but preferred taking no risks and did not so much as mention -the plant. Here, also, he was able to inspect a flourishing colony of -marmots, a quadruped which, in spite of my assurances to the contrary, -he had hitherto been disposed to regard as mythological or imaginary. - -I chose the Formaletsch because it is from thence--from its southern -base; but Mr. R. rightly insisted on going to the top--that, with the -help of a good glass, a distant but clear view can be obtained of the -scene of my father’s accident while chamois shooting. It occurred, when -he was only thirty-six years old, at the Gamsboden heights, so-called -from the frequency of chamois to be found there; the place is about a -mile off as the crow flies, and on one of its pinnacles you may detect a -wooden cross which is perennially renewed by chamois hunters in memory -of him; it stands as near to the actual site as most people would care -to go. He had just returned from an ascent of the Gross Litzner (or -Gross Seehorn)--the second time this peak had ever been climbed (the -first was in 1869), and the thing must have happened soon after 7 -September, 1874, for that is the date of his last letter to his wife, in -which he says: “I shall go shooting for a few days to Spuller and -Formarin” (Gamsboden lies midway between these two lakes); “if I delay, -I may not be able to traverse any longer the upper grounds, because snow -falls there so often and so early.” Now hard by that wooden cross is a -black precipice which scars the mountain from top to bottom; this is the -spot; he fell while attempting to cross the scar, or else, while -standing immediately above it on some soil which gave way under his -weight; the former is probably the truth. I enquired, but have never -heard of any one else essaying the same feat; for my own part, nothing -would induce me to proceed more than a couple of yards on that -particular surface. For even at our distance of a mile you may guess -what it consists of: it is the foul sooty shale called _Algäu-Schiefer_, -perfidious and friable stuff, not to be called rock at all save in the -geological sense of the word. - -Slopes covered by ice or snow have their dangers, so have those decked -with the innocent-looking dry grass which, for reasons I cannot explain, -is so abhorrent to me that I will make any detour to avoid them; all -three of these can be tackled by firm feet and the help of an ax-head as -grapnel or for step-cutting. Nothing is to be done, either with feet or -with artificial appliances, on an even moderate incline of such Liassic -shale, for it yields to pressure and slides down, and this is where a -chamois has the advantage over us. A man may scramble about honest crags -like a fly on a wall, as securely as any chamois though not so fast; on -precipices of the crumbling _Algäu-Schiefer_ the animal leaps, and leaps -again before the stuff has gathered momentum, and what shall man do? -Avoid them, until he has acquired the capacity of bouncing like a -chamois; in other words, like an indiarubber ball. - -Indeed, shifting material of every kind is objectionable and fraught -with peculiar horrors. Up behind Bludenz you may see a row of limestone -cliffs called Elser Schröfen, whose foot is defended by a “talus” of -rubble which has slowly dropped down from the heights above; and a -pretty thing it is, by the way, when you look closely at natural -features like this talus, to observe with what flawless accuracy they -have been constructed; how these fragments of detritus pass in due order -through all gradations of size down the slanting surface, from minute -particles like sand at the top to the mighty blocks that form their -base. Once, long ago, I conceived the playful project of crossing this -rubble-slope from end to end, just below the cliffs. I started on its -inclined plane, but had not gone far before realizing the situation. The -talus reposed, as it naturally would repose if left to accumulate -undisturbed; that is, at the sharpest allowable angle against the -cliffs, its upper barrier. It soon struck me as being rather a steep -gradient, and not only steep but ominously alive--ready to gallop -downhill on a hint from myself; the mere weight of my body could set the -whole mass in movement and hurl me along in a rocky flood. While making -this sweet reflection I found, with dismay, that it was already too late -to turn back; the least additional pressure on one foot might start the -mischief; once started, nothing would arrest that deluge; its beginning, -without a doubt, was going to be my end. - -I was in for a ticklish business. Rush down the slope diagonally and -evoke the landslide but anticipate its arrival? Even that was courting -disaster. I preferred to remain in the upper regions and there finished -the long journey, with curious deliberation, on all fours, in order to -distribute my weight; and then only by a miracle. It was one of those -occasions on which one has ample leisure to look into the eye of death, -and I now wish somebody could have taken a photograph of me--a colored -one, by preference; one would like to possess a record of the exact tint -of one’s complexion during half hours of this kind. Whoso, therefore, -intends to traverse the same place would be well-advised to adopt my -method of locomotion; the upright posture is not to be recommended. A -pleasant farewell to all things! Never a button of you to be seen again; -to be caught in a swirl, a deafening cataract of stones and, after -snatching _en passant_ a few grains of scientific comfort at the thought -that your human interference had modified--if only temporarily--the -angle of a talus, which is not everybody’s affair, to be buried alive at -the bottom under an imposing heap of débris.[21] ... - -Now boys seem to make a point of doing risky things, whereas a man of my -father’s age and experience should have made a point of not doing them. -What can have induced him to act as he did? He was well acquainted with -this particular shale; in that very paper on the Rothe Wand which is the -origin of our trip to Formarin, he remarks that the only troublesome -part of the ascent was a steep tract of the “soft, crumbling, blackish -_Algäu-Schiefer_, which continually slipped away under our feet,” adding -that “for the rest, no part of the climb could be called dangerous or -even difficult.” (The present route up there is another and really easy -one.) Was it downright bravura? That is not impossible! He had led an -enchanted life among the rocks and ice, and a friend of his, an old -gentleman whom I saw the other day in Bludenz and who was with him once -or twice in the mountains, spoke to me of his contempt of danger; he -said that while climbing he “seemed to tread on air” and could not be -made to understand what people meant by giddiness. Or was he stalking -some particular chamois? In that case the tragedy grows almost -intelligible; there are few things a man will not do under those -circumstances. - -Two others accompanied him on this expedition, Dr. Dürr of Satteins and -his own _Jaeger_ Fetzel, a native of our village; both have died long -since and neither, I believe, was actual eye-witness of what happened at -the fatal moment. Many journalistic cuttings and letters relative to -this affair, and doubtless giving adequate accounts, were contained in -that bundle which disappeared together with other literary and family -papers when a certain portmanteau was broken open on its journey; it is -a loss I shall never cease to deplore. The ground is supposed to have -given way under him; certain it is that he fell from the height, as we -were then told, of _many, many church steeples_--a phrase that stuck in -my mind; from the height, I should reckon, of some thousand feet. There -was nothing about him that was not shattered; his gun, his watch, were -broken into fragments. Strangest of all, even his alpenstock was picked -up in several pieces, which gave rise to the conjecture that this -implement had betrayed him and snapped under his weight as he leaned on -it for support; how else explain the splintering of such light and -resilient material? Be that as it may, they carried his remains to -Dalaas down the steep and savage Radona-tobel, and anybody who has been -there will wonder how they achieved this task.[22] He was laid to rest -in the Protestant cemetery of Feldkirch; for the first time in history -the bells of all the countryside were tolled at the funeral of a -“Lutheran”.... - -His article on the Rothe Wand is one of several which he contributed to -the Journal of our Alpine Club; they can be traced in the files, -together with his presidential addresses to the Vorarlberg section, of -which I also possess four; one of the most interesting of these papers -describes an ascent of the Piz Linard (3416 meters) and Piz Buin and the -crossing of the Silvretta and Sagliain glaciers, the latter of which had -never been traversed before; it presented _no difficulty_. These -writings betray a strong love of nature, and all the exhilaration -consequent upon “living dangerously.” He was also interested in the -scientific aspects of alpinism, as I can see from his marginal -annotations to Forbes’ “Theory of Glaciers.” - -More important are two archæological monographs which reveal another -facet of his mind; I wish I knew whether he wrote any other such things -and where they are to be found; does the library at Bregenz perhaps -contain them? The first one (1865, with two diagrams) deals with his -excavations on a strangely shaped eminence near Mauren--a village in -Liechtenstein, just across our frontier--which he held to be a Celtic -hill-fort; his surmise was proved correct by the discovery of certain -bronze relics. The other treats of the Roman occupation of this -province.[23] It is in the shape of an address to the Museum Society of -Bregenz with which he was connected; an exhaustive and conscientiously -written memoir, full of ripe speculations of his own, enriched with -copious footnotes and citations from those authorities, ancient or -modern, who had hitherto touched upon these matters; and defining all -remains of antiquity excavated here up to that day (some noteworthy new -finds have since been incorporated into the Bregenz Museum). It has -given me a feeling difficult to describe, to go through this paper -again; I seem to be reading my own lucubrations, for at the same time of -life I was writing in the same style on subjects of the same kind; a -scholarly digression, for instance, on the Roman roads of the district, -_no trace of which exists_, is done quite in my manner of that period. I -observe that he contradistinguishes between Celts and Rhætians (p. 6 -and note to p. 10);[24] that he takes Lindau, and not either of the -other two islands, to have been the one occupied by Tiberius; and holds -the _Vallis Drusiana_, the Walgau, the heart of our province, to be -called not after the Roman general and stepson of Augustus, seeing that -the name Druso is of Celtic or Rhætian - -[Illustration: Bronze statue found near Lauterbach] - -origin--pre-Roman, in short, and indigenous to this country, whence -localities like Drusenfluh, Drusenthor, Druseralp, Druserthal.[25] - -Of peculiar interest to me, among my father’s writings, are forty or -fifty manuscript essays, long and short, on a variety of themes; mere -“asides” written, to please himself, in three different languages: -English, French and German. French he studied at Geneva; German at the -gymnasium of Augsburg, and so successfully, that he learnt to handle -that tongue with more freedom and elegance than many a native writer of -the country. Most of these miscellanies date from the late fifties or -early sixties when he was still young; he doubtless continued to compose -them to the end, and the later ones would have a greater value; they are -lost. The titles testify to considerable intellectual curiosity: On -ambition--The first snowdrop--A woman’s thoughts about women--On a -passage in Pascal--The carnival--To the memory of ancient Rome--On a -comet--Voices of Nature--Friendship--A characteristic of the German -language--Dreaming of sounds--On certain pictures in the National -Gallery of Scotland--The Lake of Geneva by night--Palleske’s Life of -Schiller--Suicide--The thunderstorm--Spiritualism--Sunset in autumn--On -the want of the habit of writing--The study of Natural Science; and so -forth; a heterogeneous collection! One or two, such as a passionate -lament for the death of some little boy-friend, are set in lines as if -they were poetry, but there is no poetry about them save a certain -rhapsodical elevation of sentiment. Those written in English prove that -he had not yet excreted the poison of a German (metaphysical) schooling, -which lays fetters upon our thought and dims the candor of literary -expression. Immature stuff for the most part, heavy in diction and -saturated with the conventional wisdom of youth, although here and there -one alights upon something more esoteric, such as (in a “Fragment on -Style,” 1858): “A noble thought always commands powerful and harmonious -expression.... When a truly great thought is clothed in language -unworthy of it, the mind which dictated the words can have conceived it -only imperfectly”--which strikes me as an unexpected pronouncement, for -a youngster of twenty. Altogether, the perusal of these things is a -groping, twilight adventure into the soul of a dead man; vainly I ask -myself along what lines he would have developed had his life been -spared. - - * * * * * - -Hardly had we reached home again, after a long walk down from Formarin -over Lagutz and Marul and Raggal, before Mr. R., who has a sweet nature -but is apt to be pig-headed at times beyond the common measure of man, -began to complain bitterly that I had shown him no chamois, proceeding -thereafter to hint that all my accounts of such animals might well be -pure inventions; the chamois-race was doubtless as extinct as the ibex I -had shown him at Innsbruck; otherwise, why were they not on the spot, -“where they ought to have been,” like those marmots? As if the country -were a kind of perambulating menagerie! I am all for humoring young -people up to a certain reasonable point, but it was a little more than I -had bargained for, to start off climbing again that moment. Had he -expressed any such wish at Formarin, we might have wandered towards Lech -and entered some side-valley on our left, and possibly espied a beast or -two among the crags. He said not a word about it up there. And now it -was nothing but: - -“Show them! Show them! What am I here for?” - -“To learn English.” - -“And to see the sights of the country. Such was our bargain. All you -talk about chamois--ah, ah! I begin to understand.” - -“I showed you a wild roe-deer in the Lutz forest last week, the first -you ever saw in your life; and the devil’s own job it was to get you to -see it. Won’t that do?” - -“There you made a mistake. You ought to have called it a chamois. Then I -should have believed that chamois still exist.” - -“_Still exist?_ Why, we had chamois only the other day for luncheon.” - -“It might have been bad mutton.” - -“What next! It was delicious; and no more like mutton than--than----” - -“I see what it is. You are afraid of climbing rocks. You have lost your -nerve; I noticed it long ago on the cliffs at Scanno, but there are -certain subjects one does not like to dwell upon between friends. -_Troppo vino._ You comprehend?” - -“Nothing of the kind. And if it were _troppo vino_, what object do you -gain by being offensive about it?” - -“To shame you into showing them.” - -“Well, after that, I suppose you will have to see them. As to climbing -rocks---- I think I can show chamois to people without climbing at all.” - -So I did; by a stroke of luck which was surely not undeserved. Knowing -Mr. R.’s character only too well, and how that there would not be -another moment’s peace for me until those legendary creatures had been -proved to exist, I called to mind, after some little thought, a place -where chamois could almost invariably be seen, and we left home then and -there, over Bludenz and Brand and the Zalim alp towards the Strassburger -hut which lies under the Scesaplana, between a precipice and a perennial -snow-field; arriving just as the sun went down.[26] Near the end of our -march we turned a little to the right and glanced about us. There they -were, three young beasts, almost straight below; unmistakable chamois, -and as close at hand as any one could wish. Straightway Mr. R., whose -familiarity with precipices is only surpassed by his familiarity with -English grammar, proposed scrambling down a sheer wall of several -hundred feet, and then throwing stones at them from behind. Who knows? A -chance hit on the head, and we might bag one or the other. What a lark, -if we did! The novelty of the idea was so alluring that I might have -succumbed, if the animals had not scented us--as they would have done -ere this, had we been standing below them--and made off amid a -resounding clatter of stones. Mr. R. formally declared himself to be -satisfied. - -“Thank God for that,” I replied. “And, now that we are here, I will be -able to show you something still funnier and more interesting to-morrow. -Butterflies on this snow-field.” - -“Why not pelicans?” - -“Some folks are hard to please.” - -There are nearly always frozen butterflies to be found up here. They -have been wafted from their green meadows into these barren Arctic -regions on the upward-striving blasts of the Fön. - -Meanwhile we passed the night in the well-heated Strassburger hut, where -we discovered as objectionable a crowd of Teutons as I have ever seen -gathered together; and I have seen not a few. A fierce argument was -proceeding between two of these bullet-headed ones as to whether the -snowfield was a _Ferner_ or a _Gletscher_. The _Ferner_ man was right -(though the Tyrolese use the word “Fern” for a glacier); but his -opponent also came in for some share of applause. He had the louder -voice of the two. - -Up the Scesaplana next morning in time for the sunrise, where Mr. R. -grew silent and respectful. Naturally enough. For there is something -oppressive to the spirit on being thus islanded, for the first time, in -a glittering ocean of Alpine peaks, and breathing the icy air of dawn at -3000 meters. I greeted old friends that arose up round us, and my -glance, turning eastwards, rested at last upon the stainless white dome -of the Ortler, fifty or sixty miles away. I called to mind that short -snow-arête just before you reach the summit, knife-like and not even -level; would I now care to run along it as I did then? Well, that was in -the eighties and perhaps they have built a railway up the Ortler by this -time; in the eighties, while we were touring on old-fashioned high -bicycles over the Stelvio pass--a record, I fancy: there was a notice of -it in the C. T. C. Gazette; over the Stelvio into Italy and back by the -Splügen, riding home in one day from the Post at Splügen over Thusis and -Chur and Ragatz and Feldkirch--which was also something of an -achievement for the wretched machines of those days. - -On the way down we stepped for a moment into the Lünersee hut, where Mr. -R. had a look at the large photograph of my father after whom the place -had been named, then followed the Rellsthal towards Vandans under that -formidable flank of the Zimba on which the other tourist had died of -sheer fright. During this descent my companion, unfortunately, began to -relapse into something like his normal frame of mind; that is to say, -our pleasure was nearly marred by persistent jocular allusions to that -London hat of mine which has not yet ceased to provoke his merriment. -Some time ago I was under the impression that he had forgotten this -trivial and well worn theme of mirth. Far from it. Young people never -will realize when a joke has grown threadbare, and he now distilled so -much fresh laughter out of its shape, its color, its brim and other -details of construction, its general fit, its suitability to my -particular style, likening me at one time to his own countryman Napoleon -and at another to a certain old female cousin of whose existence I had -hitherto been unaware, that I was on the verge of getting annoyed when I -hit upon the genial expedient of making him translate his miserable -witticisms into the English tongue. - -Then, and not till then, did they become really amusing; it was my turn -to laugh. - - - - -JORDAN CASTLE - -_Jordan Castle_ - - -We often walk past that decrepit castle of Jordan. Situated on the hill -above Bludesch, it is a landmark visible from afar, and was never a -castle at all but a pretentious kind of villa. My mother told me that -the builder had been a Dutch political refugee, and that the red violets -growing on the inside of its westerly wall were planted by him. Those -violets may be found to this hour--their leaves, at least; and you may -find white ones along the path that leads down eastwards out of the -orchard here--you could, at least. - -Since then I have learnt a little more, but not nearly enough, about -this strange-looking ruin. There used to be a small, two-roomed house on -the site in olden days; this was bought, and converted into a splendid -palace--_splendidum exstruxit palatium_--by Georg Ludwig von -Lindenspeur, who lived there till his death in 1673. The plan of the -building is as regular as can be, and thoroughly uninteresting; it has -an artificial terrace in front, supported on massive substructures. The -place continued to remain in good state till 1843 when it changed -hands, and the new proprietor, having no use for it, took off the roof -and carried away everything else that served his purposes. Who -Lindenspeur was, I cannot say; the name does not sound altogether German -or Austrian, and is unknown to me. He it was, I imagine, who for his own -convenience or that of his visitors built or enlarged the path that -leads up, some few hundred yards to the east of the ruin, from the -driving-road in the valley below; this path, then broad enough for a -carriage, with sustaining walls on both sides, has now grown quite -narrow from disuse. He also founded a charity for several villages which -exists to this day. The yearly income, for our particular one, is -twenty-two florins; before the war, one might have helped a few poor -people with this sum. Who is going to pick it up nowadays? - -Such is the history of the “Jordanschloss.” I should like to learn more -about the mysterious Lindenspeur; where he came from, and what induced -him to settle in these outlandish regions and there to live to the day -of his death. I have heard of no one else doing such a thing in the -seventeenth century. He may well have been a refugee of some kind; a -recluse, an original, in any case, and a wealthy one. So Jordan has been -a ruin only for the last eighty years. One would never think so; for it -already wears a hopelessly decayed look, as if it had been abandoned -for a couple of centuries at least. That is because it lacks the solid -masonry of our feudal remains. It crumbles away all the time, and I -suspect that the farmhouse near at hand has been built with its stones. - -We had a good look at Jordan yesterday afternoon, and agreed that it was -an uncommonly transparent fabric. “The old gentleman must have been fond -of windows,” observed Mr. R. True! There are more open spaces than -stones in its ostentatious front; a row of eleven windows, all exactly -alike, and young trees are sprouting out of them. This is what made Mr. -R. christen the place “Château aux fenêtres.” And this name, in its -turn, gave occasion for a simple question on my part, a question that -led to a prolonged and painful discussion, in the course of which some -little light was thrown on Mr. R.’s progress in the English language. I -enquired as I should have done: - - * * * * * - -_D._ Now what is the English for “Le château aux fenêtres”? - -_R._ The castle to the windows. - -_D._ Castle to the windows? Try again. I am the most patient teacher in -the world. And we have the whole afternoon before us. So don’t hurry and -don’t disappoint me. Think! - -_R._ Let me see.... “Château” may sometimes be rendered by -“country-house.” The country-house to the windows. I know my _vocables_. - -_D._ Your stock of words will pass; and such praise as is due to you for -having gotten them by heart should not be withheld. But you will never -learn English. “Castle to the windows” is treating our language in your -usual brigandish fashion; _de haut en bas_. How often have I told you -that a language must be courted, like a lover! - -_R._ Never learn English? Are you serious? If so, allow me to say that I -have already learnt more than enough to pass my examination. I know my -_vocables_, as you yourself admit. I am also acquiring a little more -polish, which I confess may still be needful. And latterly--how I have -learnt to converse! - -_D._ Yes; how! This is most discouraging, after all my efforts. Castle -to the windows--good God! It might drive a less optimistic tutor crazy. -Let us sit down on this stone for a moment, and I will tell you -something that has just occurred to me. There was once a Greek poet and -grammarian called Palladas, who was favored, like myself, with promising -pupils of your style; who was a teacher, I mean, and nearly committed -suicide in consequence---- - -_R._ They never do it, those fellows, although one wishes they would. It -is the pupils who sometimes kill themselves. Your Pylades is probably -alive to this day. Well? - -_D._ Well, during one of his fits of depression at their extraordinary -intelligence, he wrote a little couplet which still exists to prove the -depth of his despair. Believe me, I can sympathize just now with the -unhappy Palladas. The castle to the windows.... Would you like to -translate his two short lines? They are very easy. And then you will -understand the state of my feelings. - -_R._ Not if you write in Greek. Put them into French, and I will -translate anything you please. Here is a scrap of paper. - -_D._ ...There now! Go ahead. No, no, no. I must have it in writing. You -are too slippery, _viva voce_. And please try to do it carefully, for a -change. - -_R._ Voilà!... _I was ramble nude to the earth, and I will ramble nude -underneath her. And why I dredge in vain, viewing the nude finish?_ So -that is the state of your feelings. You seem to have forgotten to put -your clothes on. - -_D._ I was ramble nude---- - -_R._ You may say “stroll” instead of “ramble”; I am not particular! Or -“saunter.” All these are better words than “walk” or “promenade”; they -are more adapted for poetic uses. That is why I chose “dredge” instead -of “labor”; it sounds less common. You see what come of knowing one’s -_vocables_. - -_D._ Drudge; not dredge. I was ramble nude. This is appalling. I mean to -preserve that document as a _pièce justificative_. There may be some -trouble, you know, about the way you have spent your time out here. -Ramble nude--God Almighty! Why, the poet means to say that he walked, -that he was born, naked into this world; don’t you see? - -_R._ _Ça se peut bien._ In that case, he was perhaps not the first. -There is nothing very original in baby-poets being born naked. Now if he -had worn a felt hat on that occasion---- - -_D._ This is hardly the moment, is it? Your English, I must insist on -telling you, leaves a great deal to be desired. And I should like to -ask: what are we going to do about it? - -_R._ If the baby-poet had suddenly come to light, wearing that London -hat of yours ... ah, the doctor’s explanations----! - -_D._ Laugh away. There will be a nude finish. You will never pass the -test. - -_R._ And why not? Only a camel would bother to learn all those useless -idioms. I was always first in our English class at college. I knew more -than the _profs_, and they were high-class people. - -_D._ Was you ramble nude there? - -_R._ _Allons_; just a little more polish ... ah, ah! The horrified -_sage-femme_ ... her face ... ah, ah, ah!... - -From this transparent “castle to the windows” we “rambled” yesterday, -always to the westwards, always along the brow of the hill; crossed the -Tiefis-Bludesch road and, about a quarter of a mile further on, turned -to the right and followed a field path that goes first uphill and then -down. It leads to the village of Schlins.[27] - -The meadow region ends in a dank spot, almost a swamp, surrounded by -forest on three sides. We were amazed at the multitude of butterflies -crowded into this narrow space: I have never seen so many swallowtails -gathered together. The mead is henceforward to be known as “pré des -papillons,” and it was here that Mr. R. propounded a puzzling question. -What happens to all the butterflies, he asked, when the grass is cut and -the flowers gone? Where do they go? What do they find to eat? I have no -idea. There are butterflies everywhere just now. In a fortnight or so, -there will be none left, save a few peacocks and red admirals moping -about the fallen fruit in orchards. Have they migrated upwards into -Alpine quarters, where the fields are mown at a later season? Do they -perish? - -Here, at the end of the “pré des papillons,” you enter a noble forest -which continues as far as Schlins. We used to call it the wood of -the----. No; I refuse to open up that chapter of infantile -nature-worship. Suffice to say, that the forest was properly dedicated -to this potent but capricious deity, both by reason of its immeasurable -distance from home (nearly an hour’s walk) and consequent unfamiliarity -to us, and of the deep gloom which pervaded it in those days. It has -since been thinned out; even to-day it remains one of the finest in the -district and many of the firs reach a height of forty meters. Lower down -and to the south there runs through the same wood another path, also to -Schlins. It follows the base of one of those waterless east-west vales -which are so contrarious, because, instead of at right angles, they lie -parallel to our main valley. This used to be a terrifying track in those -days; so narrow and deep was the dell, so tall and thick the trees on -either side, that twilight reigned here in bluest noonday; and its -length was interminable! The whole glen has now been reafforested and -sunshine penetrates into all its recesses; but you can still discover -the decaying stumps of those old giants, encrusted, many of them, with -_Elfenbecher_ (fairy goblets)--minute mossy growths, shaped and tinted -like chalices of frosted silver. - -As we traversed this lovely wood of the----, we were startled by a -disquieting din on our right. It was only a frolicsome shower, pattering -deliciously among the beeches yonder. Soon it reached us and drove us -under a fir. Here, as the drops were trickling through the branches, my -companion drew from his pocket that talisman, that _vade mecum_ and -_sine qua non_, and performed a selection of pieces grave and gay; I -went to inspect a small cross that stood close at hand--one of four -which are erected in this forest to the memory of woodcutters who have -perished at their trade. It is dated 1867 and records that the victim -was 63 years old. There is another, bearing a naturalistic -representation of the accident; a wife on her knees, the husband lying -dead beside her, with a massive log of timber stretched across his -middle. - -Now the loud rain dropped suddenly to a whisper and we went forth again -towards Schlins, inhaling the aromatic odors of those essential oils -which it had wakened out of the damp ground. The way is marked by -colored signs against the trees; they have not been renewed since the -war, and are fast fading away. This is a relic of the activities of the -Blumenegg “beautification-society” which was started in emulation of -that of Bludenz and, like it, expired in consequence of the war. The -society did a good deal in its short life in thus marking tracks and -even building benches here and there, that now molder pleasantly away; -the whole wood from St. Anne church to Nenzing, for instance, is -provided with marks, and whoever does not know the country might well be -grateful for them. They also built the road down to Blumenegg waterfall, -a delightful spot; that along our big waterfall was made by my brother -and inaugurated, amid much speechifying and beer-drinking, on the 31 -July, 1898. - -Schlins lies prettily tucked away on a green level between the hills and -the projecting woodland ridge of Jadgberg. We soon found ourselves at -the Krone inn, where I have been an habitué for more years than I care -to remember and where Mr. R. devoured his customary two eggs and cider, -while I indulged in a long chat with the proprietress, who is a -particular friend of mine. It does one good to be with such people, so -blithe and natural and intelligent; I could go on talking to her for -ever and ever; and I nearly did. - -Then up, at last, through the firs to the venerable ruin of Jagdberg. -Hard by the castle they have erected the so-called “Josefinum”--a kind -of refuge and school for poor children of both sexes, waifs and strays, -the scum of the province. It contains about fifteen girls and fifty -boys, many of questionable parentage or none at all, ailing in body and -mind--squint-eyed and one-legged and tuberculous and mangy and -feeble-minded and depraved. They are sometimes spoken of as the -“Verbrecherle,” the little criminals, and a few may perhaps deserve that -name. One of these, not long ago, certainly displayed a rare tenacity of -purpose. It was a boy-orphan who, at the age of fourteen, left the -establishment where (according to his own account) he had been grossly -and systematically ill-treated. When he was eighteen he considered -himself strong enough to carry out a long-meditated project of revenge, -and stole into the place one night with the intention of setting fire to -it and of murdering the director with a dagger or revolver, both of -which he carried on his person. They caught him before much damage could -be done, and he was sentenced to eight years’ imprisonment. The son of a -gypsy, it was said; which may be an _ex post facto_ explanation of his -original conduct. In every case, he cannot but have suffered under an -oppressive sense of injustice to be able to nurse his rage through four -long years. Perhaps, after serving his sentence, he will have another -try at the director.... - -As at Blumenegg, there is nothing left of Jagdberg save its outer wall, -its shell; and on entering this hoary shell we were amazed to find -therein a modern swimming-bath of cement, surely the most unexpected use -to which a feudal ruin can be put. A handful of boys were splashing -about here, together with some school-children from Schlins, every one -of whom is obliged to learn to swim. This bath and the Josefinum and its -plantations have impaired the charm of Jagdberg, as I knew it long ago; -it was then a slumberous, world-forgotten place. I am glad they have at -least not troubled to tear down its magnificent growth of ivy. True, it -always lacked the seclusion and dreaminess of Blumenegg; on the other -hand, it is more spacious, more solid, more grandiose. Like that ruin, -it dates from about the twelfth century, was destroyed by the -Appenzellers in 1405, and afterwards rebuilt; within its walls stood a -famous chapel dedicated to St. Michael. It must now have lain abandoned -for many long centuries. One would like to know why Herr Georg Ludwig -von Lindenspeur, who seems to have had more money than was good for -him--why he did not settle down in this wonderful place, instead of -erecting his flimsy and pompous barrack at Jordan? Who would not live at -Jagdberg, if he could? Such thoughts occur involuntarily, on visiting -any of these old sites. Who would not live at Jagdberg, especially in -that earlier period? Then down with that warren of rickety and vicious -bastards, and up with the gallows! - -Charitable projects.... - - * * * * * - -And yet---- - -And yet these lords of Jagdberg and other men of the past may not have -been altogether the simpletons one used to think them. When they risked -their lives, they did it in their own interests and on their own -responsibility; not, like our warriors of to-day, for the sake of -enriching people of whom they had never even heard. When they robbed, -they robbed to some purpose that was at least seemingly sane and -seemingly profitable. They had not much use for the brotherhood of all -men: “God save us from such brothers!” we can hear them saying. And so -much one may observe without bitterness, that if one dream can be called -more absurd than another, this of universal brotherhood is surely the -absurdest that ever sat in our poor deluded brain, and the present state -of the world a luminous commentary on it. I imagine it would have -puzzled those old feudals--our Oriental preoccupation with other folk, -our craving to lean up against each other for mutual support and -betterment. Flabbiness, they might have called it. We call it -“solidarity.”... A little trick of ours.... We invent such words to -shadow forth a desire more or less vague, more or less reasonable; and -forthwith flatter ourselves that we have succeeded in creating a thing. -Solidarity! Mankind is a jellyfish. How comes a jellyfish to want a -backbone? - -Such individualistic ideals may come into fashion again. Meanwhile, they -are out of date. The castles lie in ruins and their occupants, the human -wolves, have been hunted out of the land. Let us be sheep. The loves and -hatreds of these wolfish creatures must have been narrow and limited in -their range. On the other hand, they were doubtless personal, fervent. -They were kept clean. Our loves and hatreds are no longer kept clean. -They have ceased to be personal; we love and hate in the herd, the mass. -Endeavoring to identify our most intimate aspirations with those of -other men, we produce that incongruity of feeling and outlook, that -haziness of moral contour, which is a feature of modern life--to what -end? Solidarity! By all means adopt a fellow-creature’s greatcoat, or -lend him your own. Why adopt his character? Is a bundle of -self-contradictory inhibitions worth adopting? Love your neighbor as -yourself. Now what has that gentleman done, to deserve our love? - -Philanthropic musings, engendered by the spectacle of Jagdberg and its -Josefinum....[28] - - - - -ROSENEGG - -_Rosenegg_ - - -Another of these castle-ruins is the massive old tower of Rosenegg near -Bürs (Rhæto-Roman _Puire_), opposite Bludenz. It also dates from the -twelfth century; like the others, it was sacked by the Appenzellers in -1405; unlike them, it was never rebuilt--not till the other day. For six -long centuries it stood desolate and forlorn. Then, quite lately, -somebody bought the place and converted it into a residence; with good -taste, so far as one can judge from the outside. All the same, it is -annoying to see that he has planted a few exotic conifers in the -grounds; they will doubtless prosper there, but they are out of harmony -with their Alpine surroundings. I must come and pull them out, one of -these nights. - -The Rosenegg I knew was a truly “somber pile,” decaying alone up there, -far from the habitations of men, on its sunless hillock under the shadow -of those mighty Rhætian peaks. Nobody ever seemed to go near the place. -There was a shattered window at a good height on the eastern flank, and -you could get in here by climbing a wild cherry tree and then jumping -on to its ledge. The interior was a moldering chaos of stones. Round -about we used to find certain favorite plants: the rose-and-white -immortelles with silvery leaves, and “fox-tail” moss, and the globular -amber-hued ranunculus of spring, deliciously fragrant. Then flowers were -dropped in favor of butterflies; after that, the stone-period began and -Rosenegg was again frequented, for the whole neighborhood happened to be -strewn with crystalline erratics great and small, and in some of them -you might find brown garnets, but not in all; far from it! You had to -look for them pretty closely. - -That was long ago. - -And now, at the other end of life, one returns anew to Rosenegg on a -sunny afternoon, purged of the mists of middle years and, delving into -memories of that clear dawn and seeking to recapture its spirit, marvels -at the feverish joy which greeted discoveries such as these degenerate -little garnets, not a single one of which had the right color, nor made -the faintest pretense at being the rhombic dodecahedron it should have -been. How one changes! - -This was always, alas, a bad country for “stones.”... Silver ore near -Dalaas of questionable worth, and rock crystals in several quarries, and -gypsum beyond St. Anton, and a poor kind of amethyst at the Hanging -Stone; the fossils were likewise meager--corals in the limestone of -Lorüns, univalves under certain rocks at Hohenems, those oysters in the -ruddy Nagelfluh (Middle Miocene) at Bregenz; last, not least, the -fucoids of the Flysch (Eocene) which you could find nearly everywhere, -pretty to look at, but terribly fragile. That was all. There were -legends, mere legends, of ammonites being seen in the local red marble; -we never saw them![29] Ah, if our father had still been alive, he might -have told us where to find this or that; his stone-collection was our -delight, our despair. Not everybody had his luck, we often said, to -stumble in the Scesa-torrent upon a huge writhing mammoth tusk that -required two or three men to carry--how had he done it, and why couldn’t -we do it too?[30] - -Stones were dropped when birds and beasts began, and during that -slaughter-epoch Rosenegg became once more famous for producing the first -stoat that ever fell to my gun, and a falcon as well. There was a pair -of them here, and once, resting on that green terrace with my mother, I -saw the male bird dash off the ruin overhead, and swiftly took aim at -him (I refused to be parted from my gun, even during family walks). -Down he fluttered and fell, stone dead, at our feet. I recall that -afternoon as if it were yesterday. My mother said nothing; she suffered -more intensely than did the falcon, but had long since abandoned all -hope of curing my murderous instincts. I remember, too, passing alone -once through the woods below this tower and becoming aware of an unusual -sound at my side. Who could have guessed its origin? It was a putrid -fragment of a stag, so alive with worms as to make itself heard. - -At the back of Rosenegg a little path descends through the wood; here, -one morning before sunrise, I came face to face with a fox who was -returning from some nocturnal visit to the poultry yards of Bürs; it was -a question of who should step aside to let the other pass. The fox was -not to be outdone in politeness; he vanished ere I had time to slip the -gun from my shoulder. This is the path we followed yesterday, proceeding -thence always eastwards at the foot of the Rhætikon mountains; at their -roots, one might say, for they rise up straight from the level, as does -a tree. Walking along, Mr. R. encountered a tiny creature that scared -him considerably; indeed, he was transfixed with astonishment and -stepped a pace or two backwards; he had never yet seen anything of the -kind, either on land or in water. - -“A crocodile?” - -“Not quite; a Quadertatsch. Pick him up and make friends with him.” - -“His hands are cold.” - -Cold they are, like those of a Hindu; and he himself is blacker than any -Hindu, or any nigger; black as the devil, with a luster as of -patent-leather boots; black but comely. It looks as if his first shape -had been remodeled by some thoughtful craftsman who added a row of -decorative bosses along sides and back, and pinched his tail till it -became slightly quadrangular in form; creating, with these few masterly -touches, something heraldic and distinguished out of quite a commonplace -original. A vast improvement! And his manners are in keeping. He nods -his head sagely on making your acquaintance, and at once begins climbing -up your arm with a comical precision of movement, a deliberate -jauntiness, that reminds one of some retired _maître de ballet_ whose -limbs have grown a little creaky with age and rheumatism, but who is -determined to show off his faded graces to the best advantage. - -Perhaps I ought to explain that the Quadertatsch is what the Tyrolese -call a Tattermandl. The last syllable of this word proves that they have -also noticed certain human traits in his demeanor. The Tattermandl is a -universal favorite among Alpine folk. In his home up there, you seldom -see one of them alone; they are social beings, often to be found in -companies of a dozen or more. And what was this one doing here, all by -himself? Like several others I have met, he has been the victim of an -accident; always the same accident! He was swept off his legs in the -recent torrential rains and whirled two or three thousand feet down, -into our tropical regions, along one of the gullies that seam these -mountains. He will have a long walk home again; and all uphill.[31] - -Two hours later we had crossed the Ill at Lorüns and found ourselves, -after a good while, walking up the picturesque village of Rungalin; it -leans against the hillside near Bludenz in the shape of the letter Y, -and should be viewed in spring, when its brown houses are all smothered -in creamy apple blossoms. Thence, always uphill, past the little spring -called “Halde Wässerle” and along the summit of those fine cliffs at -whose foot lies the Bährenloch cavern, turning sharp to the right and -emerging finally at Obdorf, beside the upper bridge that spans the -Galgen-tobel. - -Just across this torrent, where the path begins to climb to Latz, stands -a modern peasant house which I never fail to visit with pleasure and -even respect. It has a suggestive history. Years ago, there was a poor -man who went, with all his family, as a dayworker to the cotton-mill at -Bürs, and there earned what he could. Such people are everlastingly in -want, since for some reason or other all their gains have to be spent -forthwith; this particular family was no exception. The father watched -his children growing thinner and paler from day to day, and stupider and -wastefuller in character, and saw no prospect of any betterment in the -future. “This must end,” he suddenly said, as if an inspiration had come -to him; and, borrowing a little money, bought for next to nothing the -tract of ground here which was then almost a marsh (nobody would -believe, nowadays, that you could pick handfuls of the large single -gentian on the spot), and drained it, and built a small cottage. The -family became agriculturists then and there; not a single member -returned to the factory, not for a day. Every year something new was -done to their domain; a cow purchased, another strip of land bought, a -fresh room added, and so on; with the result that these people, instead -of empty heads and spendthrift habits and weakened constitutions, have -now acquired prosperity and self-respect and decent manners and good -health. Here was one, at least, who refused to be beguiled by the -tomfoolery of industrialism. - -We descended to Nüziders down the gentle slope of that deltoid tract -mentioned on p. 148. It had grown late, and my companion was -proportionately hungry after his long walk; he insisted on refreshing -himself at the “Bädle” inn which in olden days used to be an excellent -tavern run by a Swiss--as children, we were once quarantined within its -walls for a week or two, to escape an epidemic of measles, and all in -vain! Immediately overhead are the ruins of Sonnenberg castle, another -of our feudal nests and not the least famous of them; to judge by -prints, it must have been a lordly structure. It was destroyed by fire, -and nothing remains upright save a wall with a couple of trees growing -out of its masonry. The last survivor of this noble family ended in -ignoble fashion; he was murdered by another count whom he had enraged -with some saucy speech. - -It was dark and moonless night before Mr. R. could be brought to confess -that he had eaten enough for the time being; none the less, we risked -taking the uphill path which starts at the “Bädle” and traverses the -wooded saddle behind the Hanging Stone, to end near the church of St. -Martin on the other side of that ridge. The now defunct -“beautification-society” of Bludenz did much to improve tracks like this -and those we had followed earlier in the afternoon; their labors were -then lost on us, everything was pitch black before our eyes; there was -no break whatever in the forest, and a man might well go astray here at -a late hour, particularly at a certain point where, instead of turning -to the left, he would be tempted to go straight on, and presently find -himself on the edge of a nasty cliff. The place, however, was still -familiar to me, since it was up here that I used to lie in wait with the -saturnine Mattli, at nightfall ages ago, trying to poach roe-deer. I can -still hear him whispering to me, on such an occasion, in that sepulchral -voice of his: - -“You know what happened there?” - -“Where?” - -“Down in that hollow,” and he pointed with his gun in the direction of a -sunken patch, a dingle, at our feet; it lies in the center of the -saddle. - -“What happened?” - -“_They killed the last wolf._” - -“Oh!”--and I felt a little shudder running down my back.[32] - -I was thinking yesterday of Mattli and his last wolf, as we moved -forward through the night, and thereupon began to puzzle over a question -which seems to have puzzled no one else, namely, how it comes about that -this animal is extinct in all the Alpine region, notwithstanding its -enormous area of inaccessible territory, whereas in relatively populous -districts such as the Dordogne it is still common enough to be something -of a nuisance, in spite of ceaseless persecution on the part of man. I -concluded, perhaps wrongly, that the wolf has been extirpated hereabouts -not so much by the human race as by hunger; his natural prey (hares, -wildfowl, etc.) having grown much scarcer of late--scarcer than they are -in Scandinavia or Russia, while sheep and goats and dogs, which he can -still pick up in places like the Vosges or Apennines, are not so easy to -capture during the severe alpine winter, being mostly kept within doors. -If he could go to sleep like the bear, or had the cunning of the fox, -he might have survived to this day. - -At last we emerged on the level again and, passing the church of St. -Martin, found ourselves under the lights of Ludesch. Never before had -that village seemed so endlessly long. - - * * * * * - -Those gray, weather-beaten erratics of which I spoke have been gradually -disappearing from the landscape since my Rosenegg days. They used to be -quite a feature of the countryside. When you crossed our petrifying -stream, for instance, you beheld a horde of them scattered over the -slanting field below the road, and some were of prodigious size, bearing -bushes and little trees on their backs. Not one of those is left; I know -of only a single remaining block which is decorated with timber; you -will never find it, though you may certainly pass a spot, not far from -Jordan castle, where twenty-three can still be counted lying -about--dwarfs, mostly, or half submerged in the earth. The peasant makes -war on these things; he shatters them in pieces with dynamite or splits -them with wedges; for they take up room, they interfere with his mowing -operations, their stone is admirably adapted for building purposes. And -here is another little puzzle. Sometimes, in a thick wood, one may -stumble upon the conscientiously piled-up fragments of what used to be a -block of this kind, all forgotten and overgrown with moss; why go to the -trouble of breaking up this fractious material, and then do nothing with -it? Mystery! - -The wall of the road leading up from the Bludesch church of St. Nicholas -towards Tiefis consists largely of the primitive rock of erratics which -formerly strewed the surrounding land; so does that which leaves Tiefis -in the direction of our own village. - -Which reminds me of our last, and most disappointing, visit to the -“innkeepress and his beautiful girl.” There was no question, that day, -of the _embrassez-moi_ on which Mr. R. has set his simple heart, for the -baby was absent, having gone for a brief “Sommerfrische”--as if Tiefis -were not fresh enough already--up to Thüringerberg, to stay with a -sister of her mother’s, who comes from there. She would be back in a few -days, we were told. A piece of downright bad luck for him! He seemed to -be really upset; so much so, that I had to promise we should return -again soon. Then he suddenly recalled my undertaking to show him over -the Valduna asylum; it would be an agreeable diversion and fill up the -time; we could run down to Bregenz too, as he had never seen a great -inland water like the Lake of Constance. - -My passion for idiots having waned of late, I was hoping he had -forgotten about Valduna. But no. He may forget the past participle of -every one of our irregular verbs; the prospect of an exhibition of three -or four dozen lunatics is the kind of thing he can be trusted to -remember. So be it. After all, there is no harm in going there; no harm -whatever. The sight of those poor wretches may medicine his youthful -bumptiousness and make him more contented with his own lot in life -which, once a week or so, gives occasion for some ludicrously savage -outburst. - - - - -VALDUNA - -_Valduna_ - - -Valduna was a surfeit of idiots. Mr. R. waxed grave; he has gained, I -think, a definite acquisition of humanity. That is as it should be. Such -sights of anguish are a tonic for the soul; they make us serious about -things that are worth being serious about; they deepen and broaden our -sympathies. - -The cheery doctor became still more cheery on hearing my name--he is a -local alpinist--and did not omit a single patient save one or two of the -women who, presumably, were taking sun-baths in _impuris naturalibus_, -as was also one of the males, a robust and pretty boy of sixteen; he had -a clouded, far-away look, and could not be induced to utter a word. We -saw them all; the unclean patients, the unquiet patients, as well as the -simple lunatics, sad or glad. There are no violent ones here just now, -but some of those who suffered from hallucinations of hearing were -sufficiently abusive. - -“Hello, Madam,” said the doctor to one of the ladies, “what may you be -doing here? I don’t seem to have seen your face before.” - -“I’ve come to visit a poor patient. Didn’t they announce my name? How -unpardonably stupid of them! But I shall have to be leaving in about -half an hour. So good-by, doctor, in case we don’t meet again.” - -Quite mad! - -There was a poor old fellow in bed, on the brink of G. P. I. He -fascinated Mr. R., casting a hot, delirious glance upon him and pouring -out a flood of turbid megalomania. - -“What is he telling me? What? What’s that? Translate, translate!” - -Translating was out of the question. The speech contained not a shred of -coherence; nothing but fragmentary pictures, flashing up and swiftly -engulfed again; his brain was in combustion. Moreover, the patient would -have had ten words out of his mouth to every one of mine. - -We visited the other establishment as well, a non-official, charitable -one. The director is a priest, native of this province, and one who -knows it well. He told me an interesting thing. We were speaking of the -former wine-production here, and I said it was doubtless the Arlberg -tunnel (I went through with the first train) which had caused the local -plantation of vineyards to cease, or at least to diminish to such an -extent that, for example, of the vineyards once clothing the hillsides -of my particular village--our family, too, had its own--there was only -a single one left; that belonging to the Prior of St. Gerold. And it was -the same with the rest of the province; the reason being, of course, -that the Arlberg railway had immensely reduced the price of wine from -Lower Austria or South Tyrol, which used formerly to be imported by -carrier, at great expense, over the Arlberg pass. Why cultivate bad -wine, when you can buy a better quality for the same money? - -The tunnel might have done something, he agreed, and so might the modern -rise of industrialism hereabouts which tempted men from the fields into -the factories; but the real reason was the change of climate. It had -grown not colder, but damper. He was fond of wine; he had paid -particular attention to this matter all his life; there could be no -doubt about it. Feldkirch was a case in point. All its slopes were -covered with vineyards not long ago; the Feldkirchers had grown so -attached to their home product that they preferred it to anything from -abroad. There was now not a vine left at Feldkirch. The grapes refused -to ripen properly there, as they still did in more favored localities -like Sulz-Röthis.[33] - -Thereafter we took the train to Bregenz. Hardly were we seated in our -carriage before Mr. R. began: - -“Now I want to know exactly what he said. Please repeat it.” - -“We were talking about the former production of wine in this province. -He maintains that owing to recent climatic changes----” - -“Not your old man! My old man.” - -Could anybody have remembered that rigmarole? I had to invent another -one, at the end of which he said: - -“So that was it? How sad, and how suggestive. The ravings of a mind -diseased. Poor man! I must have that all down, word for word, in my -diary....” - -Despite Adelaide Procter’s sprightly verses and its own illustrious -ancestry, Bregenz remains a repulsive little town on the shore of its -dead lake; and associated in my mind with infantile earaches and -spankings. I went there not for fun, but for a set purpose; firstly, to -consult the Curator of the new Museum, who was described as a -prodigiously amiable person, as to what natural curiosities, if any, had -lately been discovered in our upland regions, to re-inspect a picture, a -sugary-watery Ganymede attributed to Angelika Kauffmann, left to this -institution by my sister’s will, a Roman votive stone found on my -maternal grandfather’s estate and other objects here deposited by -members of my family, and to see whether his library contained any -unknown works by old Theodor (or Thomas) Bruhin; secondly, to apply for -the same object to that venerable convent-school of Mehrerau, where some -homeward-bound Pope expired long ago and where, according to one of -Bruhin’s pamphlets, he was “Professor” and may well have left some -documentary traces; thirdly, to visit the “Archiv” which contains a -goodly collection of books, old and new, dealing with this province, and -therefore, possibly, something of my father’s, and also to refresh my -memory in the matter of local dialects, place-names and so forth, and -inspect early prints of places like Jagdberg, Blumenegg and -Jordan-schloss; lastly, to present myself at the offices of the Alpine -Club in order to go through the files of their “Mitteilungen” and make a -list of my father’s contributions to that journal, and see whether it -contains some “Nachruf” of him, some obituary notice, as is likely -enough, seeing that so tragic an accident to a conspicuous member can -hardly have been left unrecorded. - -A reasonable program. - -I did none of these things; no, not one. Zeal for such scholarly -investigations seems to be abating; or can it have been the weather? It -happened to be cloudless. Much pleasanter, bathing in the lake and -climbing up, towards evening, to admire the view from St. Gebhard’s -chapel. - -We managed to go, none the less, to the Protestant cemetery which lies -on the site of the _thermae_ of old Brigantium, and examined the graves -of no less than ten deceased relatives. Here lies, among the rest, that -maternal grandfather who was responsible for the spankings aforesaid. -His tombstone recounts his glories, and I do not believe in all of them; -he doubtless had the memorial engraved half a century before his death, -in order that posterity should make no mistake as to his merits while -alive. This old feudal monster never did a stroke of work in his endless -life. He was a braggart of the first water, with gray mustache that -looked freshly waxed and curled--quite _à la_ Münchhausen--at whatever -hour of the day you might meet him; he radiated good health, and seemed -everlastingly to have stepped that very moment out of a hot bath and the -hands of a conscientious valet; he had a pink baby-complexion, and the -candid eyes of the born liar. He spanked me as often as I came here in -childhood, even as he had spanked his only son who died in -youth--perhaps from the effects of it. Only once did I score off him -during this earlier period. It was his unvarying habit to begin -breakfast--a huge cup of a certain kind of chocolate, specially imported -from Paris, for himself; tea or coffee for all the rest, and be damned -to them--with a boiled egg. One morning of All Fool’s Day I slipped down -just before the others, devoured his egg, and turned the hollow shell -upside down in its cup. On taking his seat, he had his customary whack -at the seemingly sound egg: empty! He glowered round the table at a -cluster of trembling daughters. At last he caught my eye and grunted: - -“H’m. First of April, I presume. H’m. Not bad for a kid. H’m. Let me -advise you to try that on somebody else, next year. H’m.” - -Even in later times, he continued to annoy me furiously by calling me a -beetle-collector. This is how he talked: - -“At seventeen, my lad, I was already commanding a fortress in Hungary. -And here you are, catching cockroaches. Then we went to Greece with King -Otho and ah! the lovely years we had there; the best of all my life! I -was the first person to make excavations on the Acropolis of Athens, if -you happen to have heard of such a place. Just make a note of that, -young fellow. Meanwhile, here you are, hunting bugs and pinning labels -to them. Afterwards--yes, Windsor! When I was aide-de-camp to your -Prince Consort, he confessed that he could never have handled Victoria -the way he did, unless I had told him (lowering his voice) some of my -own experiences with capricious females of that class. _And here you -are_----” - -A fragment of the Greek yarn was true. He was there for long under Otho, -roving about with his soldiers, and that forlorn and devastated country, -as it then was, made an indelible impression on him. Not Odysseus -himself could have been more homesick for Greece than he was. He spoke -of it in tones of wistful yearning, as of a lost Paradise--the identical -tones that I have since discovered, to my surprise, in the writings of a -French contemporary, Edgar Quinet.[34] Never was he so attractive, -during these final years of his life, as when he sat all alone at the -piano in the twilight hour before the lamps were brought in, crooning -the tender Greek folk-songs of his youth to a soft, self-invented -accompaniment. At such moments, he was transported; he had entered into -a fairyland of which he alone possessed the key. You might have taken -him for an angel. Indeed, his voice was the best part of him at all -times. Even when he ramped and raved, it never lost its exquisite -sweetness of timbre; his very curses sounded like a ripple of celestial -laughter. He also painted sunny landscapes in oil, and composed an -amusing valse or two. Such things went well with his exterior childlike -equipment. Primeval ferocity was lurking underneath. - -True to his freebooter instincts, he had perched himself here, at -Bregenz, on a height where he could not be overlooked by any one and -whence he obtained an unimpeded view of half the province and lake. The -place boasted of a “flag-tower” from which five countries were visible -(Austria, Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Baden and Switzerland), and he contrived, -somehow or other, to give a mediæval smack of discord and rapine to its -inner regions. Here were bleak stone passages, cold as an ice-cellar in -winter, and hung with matchlocks and lances; gloomy Gothic wardrobes -filling up their ends. The habitable part was full of spoils plundered, -without a doubt, from the rich burghers down below; a haphazard -collection of Persian carpets, harmoniums, lacquer tables, Tiepolo -portraits, glittering chandeliers, marbles: it all wore an authentic air -of loot. Somber paneling, relieved by armorial designs, covered the -walls and ceilings and made the rooms uncommonly dusky. - -And here he sat for years and years, terrorizing his family, all -females, into fits. People used to wonder how he managed to look so -absurdly young at eighty. His secret was simplicity itself: Live well, -and hand over everything in the way of worry to your women. He never -spoke to servants at all; the harim were entrusted with that dirty -work, and woe betide them if anything went wrong with the dinner! No one -was surprised when his five daughters got engaged as fast as ever they -could and fled the premises, regardless of whom they were marrying. He -ruled his wife and sister-in-law, dear old ladies, like a slave-driver. -One or the other was always hard at work manufacturing Latakia -cigarettes for the rosy brigand, who lived on their money for seventy -years and called them names to the hour of his death, although they were -children of the premier baron of Scotland. A certain daughter had the -imprudence, one day, to admire a graceful birch-tree that she could see -from her bedroom. Next morning, as usual, she looked out of the window; -the birch was gone. It had been felled overnight. That was his system. -Dominate your women, or they will dominate you. Put the fear of God into -them--no matter how. In his own family, he declared, wives were not -allowed to sit down in the presence of their husbands, unless they had -first obtained permission. It may be true. I fancy one of his ancestors -was the cosmopolitan ruffian who wrote those memoirs; a kind of -fifth-rate Casanova. There he remained, anyhow, like an old cock on his -dunghill, crowing and gobbling; vicious and vigorous past his ninetieth -year. And the strange thing is that I am considered to have inherited a -great deal of his peculiar charm. It was my mother who told me this; she -was his eldest daughter and knew both of us fairly well. - - * * * * * - -It is time, now, to confess that not all the prints and archives and -natural history collections in the world would have brought me--or ought -to bring any one else--to Bregenz, did the place not offer another and a -greater attraction. I am alluding to the local _Blaufelchen_ whose -English name at this moment escapes me: a kind of fish. They are called, -in Latin, _Coregonus Wartmanni_, which has a harsh flavor. Let nobody, -however, be scared by a mere name, inasmuch as things are apt to taste -different from what they sound. Oriental poets, for example, have sung -with such a depth of feeling about pomegranates that one almost believes -they can be eaten, whereas _Coregoni Wartmanni_, I admit, convey a -suggestion of something unpalatable. Try them none the less, and leave -Hafiz to crack his teeth over the pomegranates. - -These fish occur in some Scotch lakes and are considered so great a -delicacy that Mary Queen of Scots has been credited with their -introduction. But I knew one cantankerous countryman of mine (an -angler, and _Coregonus_ will not rise to the fly) who declared that they -were “not to be compared to trout”--which means nothing whatever, seeing -that comparison is not well possible between things so dissimilar; you -might as well say that Sir Joshua Reynolds is not to be compared to a -Bechstein Grand; and that, in fact, they were “hardly worth -eating”--which has the merit, at least, of being a straightforward -expression of opinion. Now it stands to reason that a good many things -are hardly worth eating, until you know how to cook them. The average -English hare is hardly worth eating; the way that quadruped is “dressed” -(hyperbola!) in England is an insult to the hare’s memory and to the -human stomach. As to these _Blaufelchen_--whoever does not approve of -them at the Hotel Weisses Kreuz in Bregenz must be hard to please.[35] -Let him try, as a last resort, those at the Hotel Hecht in Constance; if -still dissatisfied, he should return without delay to his lukewarm -whitebait fried in mutton-grease. - -But, first of all, a word for your guidance. Make love neither to the -waitress nor the chamber-maid nor the she-cook. Make love to the -manager. Lure him into some corner, and unbosom yourself freely. Whisper -in his ear that you are an Ainu by birth; that while out there, at Yezo, -you accidentally met a countryman of his (mentioning name and general -appearance) who spoke in such glowing terms of the Bodensee -_Blaufelchen_ that you were unable to sleep either by day or night -until, traveling via the trans-Siberian railway, you should be able to -taste them for yourself under his hospitable roof. Then see whether you -get what is “hardly worth eating.” I blush to record that we had a -veritable surfeit of _Blaufelchen_. I devoured two at a sitting, and the -waitress informed me that she had never seen a tourist--even a -German--perform a similar feat; nor should I, indeed, have been -successful, had I not kept saying to myself all the time: “When shall I -be at Bregenz again? Possibly never!” Mr. R. declared himself satisfied -with one; and small wonder. It was a leviathan.... - -A timely warning, apropos of surfeits. On arrival at our village, we -found the family in a state of distress. One of their two cows (the rest -are on the alp) had died that afternoon; died of over-eating. She, the -proprietress, had told him, the proprietor, to beware how he left the -beast to itself; he, the proprietor, swore he had known that particular -cow from the day of its birth, and that it was far more sensible than -the rest of its kind. Left to itself, therefore, the cow had “exploded.” - -I am so little of a cattle-fancier that this was news to me; troubling -news. I had always regarded the cow as an exemplar of all that is sane -and moderate. Far from it. Give them a chance, especially after the -hay-diet of winter, and they eat till they burst. They graze, and graze, -and graze; at last, stuffed to the brim, they stand there motionless, -wondering what is wrong inside, while a pained and puzzled -look--infallible symptom, this--creeps into their eyes. Now is your -chance, your last chance, of saving their life. If you happen to have an -iron chain in your pocket, thrust it into the beast’s mouth to provoke a -flow of saliva or something else which relieves the oppression; if you -have no chain look in that other pocket, where you may find a Gargantuan -clyster to be applied to its further extremity; failing that, whip out -your butcher’s knife and give the patient a well-directed stab in the -stomach--a kind of Cæsarian section; the gas escapes, the cow survives. -Else, after standing like a pathetic statue for a few moments, it falls -heavily earthwards and “explodes inside”--a cow! Thank God we belong to -another species, else how would it have fared at the Weisses Kreuz? A -gentle cow! The episode has shattered one of my dearest illusions. - -This, then, must be the explanation of a strange sight which has -attracted me from time immemorial. Often, in pouring rain, you may see a -cow at pasture and its owner standing dismally near at hand, soaked to -the skin. Why, I used to wonder--why not let the beast graze by itself -and go home and get a _Schnapps_ and a change of clothes? Now I know. -The peasant cannot move from the spot. He dare not leave the cow alone. -He must stay there and keep his eye fixed on hers, lest that symptom -should appear. - - - - -OLD ANNA - -_Old Anna_ - - -Stood awhile yesterday beside a block of gneiss which projects upon the -right-hand side of the Tiefis path, some two hundred yards above the -petrifying stream, at the foot of a young oak. It has been broken long -ago, and is shaped like a very low and narrow bench. How one -changes--how one looks at things with other eyes! Is it possible that -this stone used to be my _Ultima Thule_ in days of infancy; this, or the -walnut tree a little higher up, whose stump remains to this day, and -from under whose branches you had a broad view over the valley? The -upward path was shadier than now, and here, sure enough, I played -through the morning hours, while the old Anna extracted out of her -pocket that invariable _Frühschoppen_ (she, being Tyrolese, called it -“merenda”)--some salted bread and a quarter of red wine. Sometimes the -same pocket produced also a chocolate for me; in fact, she had a trick -of conjuring chocolate out of the most improbable places. On one -occasion she actually shook a piece down from a tree; a miracle.... - -Later on, the Gleziska became our favorite haunt. This is a flat green -meadow to the east of the village where stood, at that time, a glorious -barn containing an ante-chamber and two separate compartments full of -delicious hay to swim about in; it has now been replaced by an anæmic -structure of the new type. The first walk I ever took, all by myself, -was from the village church to the Gleziska; that was a proud day. Soon, -when my sister had learnt to toddle, the old thing took us further -afield; once as far as the church of St. Martin at Ludesch (built about -1430; some of its rare Gothic furniture is in the Bregenz Museum), where -we two discovered, in a crypt, an immense accumulation of human skulls; -we dragged four or five into the daylight, and had a game of skittles -with them. - -I still own a photograph of the old Anna. She is not old in the least; -about forty, I should say. There she sits at a table, half-profile, her -left arm supporting the head; she does not smile, but looks rather -vacuously into the world, as such photographs are apt to do. A pleasant, -refined face; I can read nothing else out of it. There is a suggestion -of silk about the clothing, and a black ribbon hangs down from the back -of her hair. Such was the _Alte Anna_ who, being a child of nature -herself, was the ideal nurse. Her only drawback was that she had too -great a fondness for ghastly wolf-stories of the Little Red Riding Hood -type. She possessed an endless store of such tales current, no doubt, -in the Tyrol of earlier days. I wish I could still remember them, for -they would now interest me as showing how strongly the popular -imagination must have been impressed with this scourge, at which we can -at last afford to laugh. In those days they frightened me to death; they -haunted my dreams. - -Old Anna faded out of sight, and there came a shadowy interregnum of -German governesses, of whom I can recall nothing save that a certain -Fräulein Schubert got the sack because she had a flirtation (this was -doubtless a euphemism) with some young man in the factory offices. It -struck me as unfair that you should be sent away just because you happen -to like your friend. - -Herr Som followed. He was master of the boys’ school at Bludesch (there -was no school-house in our village at that time); a Swiss, I fancy, and -a well-groomed, gentlemanly fellow who often lunched at our house. To -his establishment I was now sent every morning--rather a long tramp for -a child, across all those fields, especially through the fresh-fallen -snow of winter. The school-house still exists; it is a conspicuous -three-storied building that overtops all the others in this hither side -of Bludesch; a house of noble lineage which has recently been made to -look quite new and respectable; it was built in the seventeenth century -by the family of Von der Halden zu Haldenegg, who were _Landvogts_ of -Blumenegg.[36] The place was therefore not a school-house at all; only -two rooms had been set apart by the village elders where boys sat at -desks under Herr Som’s supervision writing in endless lines -“Schwimmmmen, Schwimmmen” (it was spelt with four, or at least three, -m’s in those days). Som must have been pleased with my progress, for I -still possess a unique document--a school report with the mark “very -good” in reading, writing and arithmetic; so pleased that, on marrying -soon afterwards, he gave my exotic name to his eldest son, the first and -last time such an honor has been conferred on me. “Schwimmmmen” is all -that sticks in my mind of Bludesch school; that, and the view up the -smiling valley from the window of the water-closet (another euphemism). -It was then and there borne in upon me how needful to such apartments is -a spacious prospect upon which the eye can dwell with pleasure. To this -attraction I should be inclined to add, now, a choice little library -and, for those of musical tastes, a pianola. - -Misguided Scotch relatives, in those days, used to send magnificent -dolls to my sister by post. Little they knew what they were doing: -little they knew! A parcel arrived, and somebody would say to her: - -“Well, I declare. This looks uncommonly like another doll. _Another_ -doll! You are a lucky child, and no mistake.” - -My sister pretended to shriek delightedly: - -“Oh, let me unpack it, all alone, upstairs,” and snatched away the -parcel and ran. I followed. A glance, a single masonic glance, had been -exchanged between us. It sufficed. I knew the part I was called upon to -play. - -Upstairs, in some unused room, we locked the door upon our labors. The -plaything was unpacked in dead silence; a ceremonial had begun. When the -last silk-paper wrapping had been removed, my sister took the splendid -golden-haired creature into her arms and, with many false hugs and -kisses, bore it swiftly towards the garden. I followed. Not a word was -spoken. We were high priests, engaged upon some terrible but necessary -ordinance. At the foot of a certain old tree in a certain -shrubbery--always the same--she paused, and muttered certain mysterious -words into the victim’s ear. Then she handed it solemnly to me. I took -the thing by the legs, swung it through the air once or twice, and -shattered its head to fragments against the trunk. After that, we tore -it limb from limb amid a shower of sawdust and stamped on the remains. -Forthwith the spell was released, the sacrifice at an end; and we -screamed with hysterical joy. - -A few days later, somebody might enquire of the child: - -“Now where is that lovely doll you got from dear Cousin Annie?” - -She would reply, mournfully: - -“In bed. Poor little Esmeralda has a tummy-ache this morning.” - -This, too, was part of the rite. The words were always the same. - -Never a doll escaped assassination, and nobody, I believe, found out -what happened to them. My sister hated dolls with a vindictive, -unreasoning hatred. And I, of course, was only too pleased to smash -anything I was bidden to smash; and still am. - -Dear Cousin Annie--this one happened to be no relation at all--turned up -in this country at odd intervals, as did the rest of those stark -grand-aunts and female cousins, to our infinite annoyance. There were -scores of them, and all of a kind; musty and sententious to the last -degree. The present generation has no idea, not the faintest idea, of -what a grand-aunt used to look like in those days. Dear Cousin Annie was -a gaunt, tottering, gray-haired anatomy, who reeked of Macassar oil, and -wore massive jet beads round her neck and a tremulous drop of -rose-water at the end of her nose--just the kind of person whom a little -boy would love to kiss. - -“What is my name, dear?” she asked, over and over again, with a sickly -smile. - -You were expected to answer: - -“Dear--Cousin--Annie.” - -It was no use whatever saying, “Don’t know.” We tried it often, but the -question was only repeated with greater persistence, and a sicklier -smile than ever. - -Her husband had been a physician and was even more aged than she; he -exhaled an air of unbelievable eld. It occurred to me, years afterwards, -that there was something pre-Victorian and Waterlooish about those white -whiskers. He drank sherry-wine, and dishes of tea. Nevertheless, one -could have learnt much from him had one been a little older, for he was -a character, an original. Later on, in Edinburgh, I got to know him -well; he was then ninety-two, and no longer communicative. An -antiquarian of the old school, he had filled his head with queer -knowledge upon every subject, and his house with queer objects of every -kind. Judging by his pamphlets and letters to newspapers, he seems to -have taken, and rightly taken, all learning to his province. I still -possess a few of these things; who can tell how many he produced -altogether? “Protestantism in Austria” begins thus: “I am desirous of -calling the attention of your readers to this subject, which is not -generally understood in Britain.” It was written here, as well as a -rather incoherent “Notice of a flood at Frastanz in the autumn of -1846.”[37] He gave me another paper written by his own father, who was -Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons and died in 1818: “Mistresses -and Servants.” How good it reads! - -_B._ My dear Mrs. A., I am glad to see you. All well at home, I hope? - -_A._ All well. Mr. A. is going about in his usual way, and the children -are in good health. - -_B._ When things are so, a wife and mother may truly say: “He gives all -things richly to enjoy.” - -So far _all well_; but Mrs. A. promptly embarks upon her pet subject of -“plaguy servants.” Mrs. B., after an argument of sixteen pages, -recommends her to read a certain verse in St. Paul’s Epistle to the -Ephesians. - -Here is a short paper of his own on “Saints” (“When I was student at the -University of Edinburgh, we young fellows were displeased by our -professor, a worthy old man, constantly speaking to us of _Baron_ -Haller”), and a strange composition touching the “Life of a domestic -cat”. (“I kept a record of her kittenings. They were twenty-five in -number, comprising seventy-eight individuals.”) The old fellow also -burst into poetry once or twice and perpetrated, among other things, -some flattering lines on our family of Tilquhillie entitled “Feugh and -Dee,” lines which nothing but ingrained modesty now prevents me from -reprinting, seeing that this family, though venerable enough--the oldest -in the county, they tell me--was never yet, to my knowledge, hymned in -verse, but has contrived to live on, from age to age, sufficiently -inconspicuous; inconspicuous, and all of us rather cracked into the -bargain. See, for a recent example, Dean Ramsay’s “Reminiscences.” - -Thereafter came an epoch when those in authority seem to have reached a -sensible conclusion, to wit, that English children should not only speak -English, but also learn to read and write it. A governess was required. -In due course of time she arrived; and her name was Miss Prime. We -straightway called her Miss Prim, or “the Prim”; it suited her -admirably. Her hair was parted down the middle; indeed, she was prim all -over, but her pedagogic system proved a failure. Miss Prim must have had -an indifferent time of it here, so far as the children were concerned. -Her disciplinary measures never obtained the desired effect. When my -sister was told to stand on a bench for some misdemeanor, she made such -contortions at me that it was impossible for lessons to proceed; she was -next put into a corner facing the wall, where the contortions continued -more violently than ever, only this time with the back part of her body; -at last she was locked up all by herself in a distant room, whence there -presently issued such a din of crashing furniture that the people -downstairs rushed up, asking whether the end of the world had come. In -this particular room stood an enormous double bed; it inspired her with -a brilliant method of eluding punishment for good and all. - -“Crawl under here,” she suggested, “whenever the Prim want us _for -anything_ (euphemism). She can never pull us out.” - -She couldn’t. Under that bed we remained for hours, contentedly munching -cakes and crunching sweets which had been stuffed into the mattress to -meet contingencies such as these, until the Prim implored us, almost on -her knees, to come out again. At other times, before or after “lessons,” -we indulged in prolonged and uproarious fights between ourselves. “It -will end in a howl,” my mother was wont to remark on such occasions. - -Nobody need tell me what we required: a thorough good spanking. Who was -going to administer it? Had my father not died when I was five, he would -doubtless have attended to the matter. He could hurt confoundedly, he -could. I have bright memories of one of his spankings when, after -performing a war-dance on some bed of newly planted portulacas, I found -myself suddenly seized by the scruff of the neck and carried at arm’s -length rabbit-fashion, dangling and kicking in air, into a conservatory. -_En route_, I had barely time to shout to the old Anna “Wait till I’m -spanked!”--we were going for a walk--before I got it hotter, far hotter, -than usual. That is the way to spank children. Never do it unless you -are really angry yourself. Otherwise they will regard you as a -cold-blooded torturer. - -As to the Prim--I should like to have seen her tackling either of us two -seriously. Even my sister, tiny as she was, would have throttled her to -death, and then dropped her out of the window. She was regarded as a -poor joke, and that is why her teaching hardly met with the success it -deserved, and why I was therefore soon to be sent to an English private -school, loathsomest of institutions, and thence to other schools, and -yet other schools--there to be crammed for such a length of time with -such a superfluity of useless learning, and by such a variety of -unwholesome-looking gentlemen of different ages and nationalities, that -I am only now, at the end of all these years, beginning to shake off the -bad effects and discover my true self again. That fetish of education! - -Meanwhile Miss Prim, during one of her holiday visits to England, had -succeeded in getting engaged. She imparted the happy news to our family, -with becoming shyness, a few hours after her return; she wondered -whether her fiancé might ever come out here, and proceed with his -courtship on foreign soil, for a week or so? Why, of course he could; -let him come when he pleased, and stay as long as ever he liked! In due -course of time he arrived; and his name was Mr. Clutterbuck. -Clutterbuck. Clutterbuck. The name alone sent us into fits; we thought -it an incomparably funny one, as indeed it is. Mr. Clutterbuck, himself, -was a droll and pertinacious individual. He used to sit, rod in hand, -trying to catch trout in the reservoirs. Everybody told him he would -never get a nibble there--the fish were far too well-fed; why not try a -fly on the Tabalada stream, at the bottom of the valley near Gais, the -fishing of which also belonged to us? - -No. Mr. Clutterbuck preferred the reservoirs. He would sit on that stone -margin morning and afternoon, while the Prim hovered lovingly in his -neighborhood. There I see him sitting to this day. - - * * * * * - -The only way to get these pampered beasts out of the reservoir is by the -prosaic method of draining off the water. Then you have them! Now just -remove your trousers and wade into the mud, if you do not mind looking -like a fool, and pull them out with your hands, which is far more -exciting sport than you might imagine. Only then is it possible to -realize how slippery and muscular a trout can be when taken, not off a -hook after an hour’s playing, but fresh from its element. We used to do -this periodically in later years, and some of the fish were of -respectable size. The largest I remember catching weighed a fraction -over four kilograms and was seventy-six centimeters in length. He kicked -like an electric dynamo. - -We happened to be going that afternoon to a friend in Bregenz and -decided to make him a present of this trout, particularly as he had a -far-famed Viennese _chef_ who claimed to be able to make a succulent -ragout out of the Devil himself. As there was no time for a special box -to be built, we requisitioned the newly made coffin of a child that had -died overnight but was happily not yet bestowed therein; our monster was -packed inside, comfortably wrapped up in green nettles. The baby could -wait; the trout was in a hurry.... - - - - -SCHLINS - -_Schlins_ - - -There is a sense of sudden departure in the air. - -We shall know the worst, to-morrow, or next day.... - -Lasko’s well has not moved from its old place. It lies about a hundred -yards west of the “Château aux fenêtres.” The wooden trough into which -the water trickles--one of its many successors--looks the same as ever; -I am glad it has not yet been converted into a basin of cement, like -those in the village below. - -The transformation of wood into cement is proceeding relentlessly all -over the country; to my infinite disgust. Those numerous wooden -watertroughs for the use of householders and their cattle, which used to -be quite a feature of the streets, are now all being manufactured out of -this damnably durable material; there is a cement-factory near our -station, and I wish somebody would drop a bomb on it. Cement has invaded -domestic architecture, as was inevitable. Inevitable things are not -always pleasant, and not always pretty. It is hard to imagine anything -more infamous, on a small scale, than the prison-like gray garden walls -which have replaced those delightful wooden palings through whose -meshes a riot of flowers would come tumbling out upon the road; the -spacious wooden houses, so full of charm and individuality, so redolent -of patriarchal well-being, with their shingles and gables burnt to a -glowing umber-brown by years and years of sunshine, are being discarded -in favor of weedy little cement abominations that make one sorry for -people who have to live in them. They look cheap; they are cheap. I wish -they were dear, for cheap things are seldom attractive, and life in -cheap and ugly homes cannot fail to give their inmates a corresponding -bent of mind. - -Not a single wooden bridge is left over Lutz or Ill. They were swept -away, every one of them, in the floods of 1910 and 1911 and now, for the -first time, their place is taken by solid but hideous structures of -cement. One is sorry to let the old ones go; one calls to mind the -bridge at Ludesch built as long ago as 1498 and ever since then kept in -repair, with its sloping wooden roof, its sudden twilight within and -odor of hot fir-wood, as of a scented tunnel; one remembers the soft -tread of the horses’ feet on the powdery beams and the sound of creaking -timbers underfoot. They are eyesores, these new things; they will remain -eyesores. - -Now a new road is an eyesore too, ruthlessly hacked, as it is, through -the landscape; and nearly every road hereabouts, great or small, has -been cut afresh within the last generation. No great harm in this, -however, since roads have a knack of growing old again; you need only -wait; lichens and grass and brushwood will presently creep up to hide -the scars. There is nothing to be done with palings and bridges and -troughs and houses of cement; nothing, save to stand aside and curse -them. For the æsthetic drawback of cement, that godsend to lazy -builders, lies in its agelessness and lack of character; if it grows old -at all, it grows even more horrible than in youth. But men are becoming -blind to these and other uglifications--the word is not quite ugly -enough for the thing--of the scenery and of their houses. For instance: -forty-one unseemly electric wires converge at the post-office of our -small village; there they are, so repulsive that you cannot but look at -them; the women of the place, instead of feeding chickens or mending the -children’s clothes, spend their lives in gossiping with each other at -long distances, and God alone knows the nonsense they find to chatter -about. Go where you please, in fact, and you cannot fail to perceive -half a dozen decorative telegraph poles staring you in the face. Now why -do people want all this ridiculous electricity rushing up and down the -country? Solidarity. Brotherhood of men.... - -Lasko’s well---- - -No; it has not moved from its old place. But we looked in vain for -those “Wasserkälber” which were always to be found lying at its bottom -in olden days. Indeed, I have not seen a single “Wasserkälb” since my -arrival here. Are they extinct?[38] - -We called him Lasko; but it was not till many years afterwards, at an -English public school, that I learnt that Lasko really meant anything. -And we called it Lasko’s well, because it was here that Lasko, our black -retriever, lapped up some water on his last walk, the day before his -death. After that, we made it a rule that every one of our dogs, as -often as we passed this place, should drink at the trough in memory of -dear old Lasko, whether he happened to be thirsty or not; if he refused, -his head was held under the water till he had imbibed, willy-nilly, -something like the requisite amount of liquid. To this treatment were -submitted: - -(1) Lasko the Second, a worthless yellow brute who, having been altered -in youth, was of so timorous a disposition that it became our greatest -delight to get somebody to fire off a gun in his immediate neighborhood, -and watch him flee for his life. - -(2) Sippins, who belonged to my sister and to the “Affenpincher” -breed--that is, to so small and strange-looking a canine variety that -the boys were wont to call him a Chinese rat; all of which did not -prevent him from having fleas. One wonders whether those enthusiasts, -who declare that dogs have no fleas, are in earnest. Have they ever -looked for them? Sippins was flea’d, during the summer, twice a day by a -maid who deposited the insects in a saucer containing alcohol, and in my -boyish journal I record “136 fleas caught from Sippins at a single -time”--Sippins himself, as aforesaid, being about the size of a -full-grown rat. Now Sippins objected strongly to this water-cure at -Lasko’s well. He had been born and educated at Munich; he only touched -water when no beer was procurable; he could drink like a lord, like a -fish; but only beer. It was not long, therefore, before it became one of -our principal pastimes to “make Sippins drunk.” He seldom knew when to -stop. - -(3) MacDougall, a Skye-terrier belonging to me, of so pure a breed that -you never knew whether he was walking forwards or backwards. He was an -anomaly among quadrupeds; nothing approaching his style had been seen in -this country before. His talent consisted in enticing cats down from -walls and trees and other inaccessible situations by his mere -appearance; the cats, seemingly, being unable to resist the temptation -of inspecting at close quarters this freak of nature, this animated -hearth-rug. Once on the ground, they were doomed to a violent death, -for they never dreamt it was a dog. Need I say what our chief diversion -with MacDougall used to be? One of his most brilliant exploits took -place in Bludesch at our tailor’s--who was also our haircutter; whence, -for many years, I found it difficult to realize that tailoring and -haircutting were separate professions--where dwelt a family of cats, a -mother and half a dozen kittens. The operation took less than a minute -to perform, while we looked on amazed and, ten to one, amused; two -shakes for the mother, half a shake each for the kittens; the entire -family laid out flat on the grass, dead as doornails, side by side; -whereupon he trotted up to us, right end forward, saying plainly: -“_How’s that?_” And we doubtless replied: “Oh, MacDougall! Do it again.” -Very cruel children, we were.... - -Straight up, from Lasko’s well, and once more to that inspiring portal -of green, where the path to Tiefis enters the cavern-like forest. To-day -those curtain-fringes of the dark firs are waving softly to and fro, -stirred by a tepid Fön wind. Now down again, past sundry erratic blocks -and through the newly planted tract to the “nymphe pudique”--the source -of the crayfish stream, which we intend to pursue all the way to -Schlins. A good deal of that fair swamp growth has been cut since our -last visit; enough remains to please the eye. The vale grows wider after -the Tiefis-Bludesch road has been crossed, and the rushes denser; one -realizes why the peasants have called this rivulet “Ried-bach.” It -meanders in desultory fashion about this upper marshy level; then -plunges, all of a sudden, into the wood, and puts on a new character. A -downhill career begins in earnest. Rapids are formed, and islets; all in -the deep shade of those trees through which it glimmers obscurely along. -A kingfisher haunts these dusky reaches (there is another on the upper -Montiola brook); scenery such as this must have been in Poe’s mind when -he wrote “The Island of the Fay.” Soon we pass a small abandoned -reservoir; it is the second spot in the district where bulrushes can be -found--the third is near Bludenz; after that comes a stretch of country -difficult to follow, steep and irregular, a stretch of tortuous windings -and cascades, till the lower level of Schlins is reached, where the -brook enters upon its final phase, gliding demurely, like our own -Feldbächle, through cultivated meadows at the foot of Jagdberg. - -It stands to reason that we straightway found ourselves sitting at the -Krone inn, wistful at the thought that this might be our last visit -here. The proprietress is a sweet-natured woman and a stimulating -conversationalist; we talked and talked, while Mr. R. partook of his -traditional two eggs and insisted moreover in drinking “Suser,” freshly -made cider, in spite of my warning about the probable consequences of -such rash behavior, namely, an attack of the “Holde Katarina,” the “Fair -Katherine,” which signifies a loosening of the bowels. The expression is -remarkable as showing the prudishness of these folk in regard to bodily -matters of every kind; alter a letter in that name, and you may divine -its origin. All such things are slurred over, even by grown-up people. -So female dogs are always known as “he”; incredible to relate, our -much-married dachshund-lady is “he.” How different from Mediterranean -countries where sexuality and every other physiological fact is taken -for granted by the smallest children, and emphasized as such; where even -inanimate objects are apt to be invested with the attributes of sex! -Here we stand before a racial divergence of outlook; a gulf. - -The cider-harvest promises well. But I have long ago given up pretending -to enjoy this drink, and find it hard to believe that the first time I -ever got tipsy was on such mawkish stuff. Yet so it was. Needless to -say, it was not my own fault; other people were mixed up in the affair; -Jakob, and my sister. Jakob was a smiling, sunburnt villager who looked -after our cows and pigs and also helped at the hay-making; the accident, -therefore, must have occurred at the present season of the year. Now -whatever Jakob did, he did with such peculiar zest that it was a -liberal education to watch him. Nobody could _dengel_ quite like he -could (to _dengel_ is to beat out the blade of a scythe); he threw his -heart and soul into the performance. And nobody could quaff cider with -such infinite gusto; it made you thirsty to look at him. Wherever he -happened to be mowing among the fields, there, close at hand, in the -shade of some tree, stood his jug of blue stoneware out of which he -refreshed himself gloriously, in god-like fashion, from time to time. -When it was empty, he was wont to disappear down the stairs of the -laundry into certain mysterious regions underneath our house and come -back with the jug refilled; and this is where my sister’s rôle begins. -She was three years old at the time; the suggestion, therefore, can only -have come from her; the suggestion, I mean, that we should watch where -Jakob went and then get some cider for ourselves. It was another world -down there, a cool twilight passage running the whole length of the -house, with vaulted chambers on both sides that were lighted by windows -ever so high up. One of them was full of barrels side by side, and one -of those barrels was still dripping. Aha! So that was where Jakob filled -his jug. Now just the least little turn of the tap, and the liquid began -to trickle deliciously down our throats, while we egged each other on to -drink more and more. I have no idea how long we stayed down there. The -countryside was scoured in vain; all traces of the children had -disappeared, and had it not been for Jakob providentially descending to -fetch himself yet another jugful, we might have remained undiscovered -till next morning. As it was, we were picked up senseless and put to -bed. - -Seven o’clock--how long one has lingered in this pleasant tavern! Now we -leave, after many farewellings, and wander homewards due east, not -passing the church at all; we cross the streamlet which has accompanied -us hither and immediately enter that wood, familiar by this time, the -once awe-inspiring forest of the----. It is already dark here, under the -firs, but the rich, resinous perfumes of daylight are still hanging in -the air; no dew has fallen to quench them. So we move along the dim path -in silence; we have talked ourselves out, at Schlins. - -All those squirrels--what has become of them? In olden days you could -seldom traverse any wood hereabouts without encountering one or more. -Now, during the whole of our stay here, we have seen but two; one black, -one red. Where are they gone? I enquired, and learnt that they had not -been persecuted during the war, as were the moles. To be sure, certain -persons eat squirrels and declare them to be excellent; they did this -already in the days when these animals were numerous. In England, also, -the race seems to be dying out. Has there been some epidemic, or is the -whole squirrel-tribe growing weary of life and contemptuous of the joys -of propagation? Quite lonesome these forests are, without their -squirrels. As to the crested tits--they seem to have vanished -altogether; in fact, the entire titmouse tribe is far less common than -it used to be. Have their nesting-places grown rarer or are they, too, -becoming ascetic? We have wandered leagues and leagues about these -woodlands, and not once have I heard that melodious trill; not once. - -Out, into the odorous _pré des papillons_, into a fading, greenish-gray -atmosphere, a kind of elf-land. All is moist here, and mysterious. An -owl sallies forth on our left and circles twice directly overhead, so -close that we can discern her eyes and beak. Then up through misty -fields past a decrepit hay-hut, one of the survivors of the old school -like that near the crayfish-stream, one of those whose planks are -encrusted with sulphur-hued lichen. Now Mr. R. produces his talisman and -plays as we walk in the gloaming; many new _morceaux_ have been “found” -since that day at Blumenegg. Our last concert, possibly! And just when I -was beginning to appreciate, and even understand--which is far more -difficult--this aboriginal music with its up-to-date names! - -Marching along I review, in fancy, the many scenes which have lately -flitted before our eyes, and one little memory creeps up among the -throng; I think it will end in submerging them all. It was what we saw -a few days ago during our latest stroll to the ruined Jagdberg. I make a -point, namely, of losing myself on the way there (it is quite easy; you -have only to bear a little to the north in the woods) because, in so -doing, you never fail to see something, however insignificant, which you -never saw before. So it fell out. We duly lost our way and, floundering -down a thickly wooded incline, came to the margin of a small -crescent-shaped bog, surrounded by old firs. It was as solitary a spot -as you might wish to find; for all one knew, the foot of man had never -trodden here. Now I have spoken of the many-tinted vegetation of these -marshy tracts. This one, for reasons which a botanist may expound, was -of another nature. It had been dedicated wholly to gentians.[39] They -shot up from the wet moss--a blaze of the most perfect blue on earth. -Theirs was not a steady light, but shimmering and playful, and of a -luster so intense that no African sky, no sapphire, could have rivaled -it. I plucked one of these portentous flowers. It measured nearly the -length of my walking-stick and was alive with color from end to end. -Conceive a hundred thousand of them, all huddled together among those -somber trees. We seemed to be looking down into a lake of blue fire. - -Here, I think, is a memory to cherish; a vision to carry away into other -lands. - - * * * * * - -Sunday, 3 September. Departure! We leave by the 1 a.m. train to-night. - -And it would not be hard to guess where we went this afternoon, for a -final stroll. - -There, in the well-known room, was the “old one” as well as her husband, -and the baby looking prettier than ever since her holiday at -Thüringerberg; there also were some twenty other people, peasant-folk, -chatting at tables, and smoking and drinking beer. Sunday! We had -overlooked this fact. And there they would sit, till all hours of the -night. “Not much chance of _embrassez-moi_ in here,” I thought, as I -looked round. Mr. R. remained in the open doorway, and his -disappointment took a tragic turn. He said bitterly: - -“What are all our pleasant walks and talks worth now? Ah, I shall have -nothing but unhappy memories of your country.” - -“That you shall not,” I declared. “Nobody is to have unhappy memories of -my country, if I can help it. Now this is a moment for heroic measures, -and one little thing has just dawned upon me; what cannot be done inside -a room, may be done outside. Let us sit down, while you order your eggs. -I have it. I have it already. Those eggs.... How lucky you are fond of -eggs. How lucky you have a friend who knows why eggs were created!” - -We gave our orders. - -“What on earth am I to do?” asked Mr. R. - -“You will presently leave the room, without turning round to look at -anybody. Go into the orchard at the back of the house, and wait there. -When the baby arrives, I give you thirty seconds together. Employ them -in a laughing and brotherly fashion, as I told you the other day. Then -you, at least, will return straight here. Thirty seconds. If you mean to -obey to the letter, swear it. Else no baby till the crack of doom. Now, -swear.” - -Whereupon Mr. R. swore a great oath in the Mediterranean manner, on the -head, or the honor--on both, I fancy--of his own mother, to obey to the -letter. - -“Thirty seconds,” I went on. “Imagine otherwise what might happen if the -old one grew suspicious and went into the orchard! And she may well be -suspicious, after those marconigrams of the other day. What would she -think of us two conspirators? How about my reputation here, in the only -country where, by good luck, I have not yet been found out; where my -family name is a byword for all that is upright and honorable; where my -father, my grandfather.... Just let me hear you swear again.” - -Whereupon he swore a second great oath, to the same effect as the first, -on the souls of all his dead ancestors, male and female. - -“Thirty seconds.... You can go now. And listen! Clasp her firmly if you -get the chance, or you may bungle the whole affair, and these are the -little accidents one never forgives oneself. After all, it would be a -queer baby who objected to being embraced for thirty seconds by such an -affectionate elder brother. Why should she?” - -“I was going to do that anyhow.” - -He departed; and presently the fateful eggs arrived and remained on the -table one minute, two minutes. I beckoned Dorothea to my side: - -“Will you go and fetch my friend? His eggs are getting cold. You may -find him in the orchard; he is fond of orchards. _Run!_” and I gave her -a gentle push. Whether she perceived the strategy or not, she was off -like an arrow. - -What happened under those apple-trees I shall learn in due course of -time, by the simple expedient of asking no questions. Up to this moment -I only know that Mr. R. returned alone, and sat down to his eggs with a -not unsuccessful air of _insouciance_. The baby, I suspect, was in the -kitchen, cooling down that wonderful complexion, and her mother would -doubtless have gone to look for her there, had I not meanwhile entangled -her into a complicated discussion anent the manufacture of Kirschwasser, -a specialty of this village. Thirty thousand kronen a liter, she vowed, -was what they were asking for it. Who was going to pay thirty thousand -kronen? Well, it struck me that one shilling and sixpence for a bottle -and a quarter of the finest Kirschwasser on earth was a fairly -reasonable price. - -So far good. I came well out of that little episode.... - -Endless are the other things we have left undone. Why, we have not even -been up the Walserthal, nor so much as an inch in the direction of that -fairest of all our alps, the Gamperdona behind Nenzing, where twelve -hundred cows are munching and mooing day and night. (The Montavon valley -may take care of itself; it is full of tourists). And of hills, real -hills, nothing has been climbed save the poor old Scesaplana. I had -intended to take Mr. R. on some mountain which has more flavor to it, -even though it be not so high--the Drei Schwestern, for instance, above -Frastanz, about which my father also wrote a paper; or the Widderstein, -or the Kanisfluh. There, on the Kanisfluh, he might have satisfied his -craving for edelweiss. - -No matter. The mountains can wait for another season. - -One is sorry, none the less, not to have witnessed the boisterous -procession of cattle returning from their summer pastures, the woodlands -changing to gold, and that first September hoar-frost which melts at -noon, when drops of moisture glisten on every spider-web; sorry not to -have seen the gay fungus-people starting out of the dank earth. And here -are plums on their trees, almost ripe. Such a crop there never was. -Another week, and they would have been ready to be converted into the -first of those ambrosial tarts which are smothered, at the last moment, -under a deluge of whipped cream and then devoured so dutifully that, on -rising from table, you cannot but feel a kind of bewildered reverence -for the capacity of the human stomach. Only another week: how provoking! - -No matter. We have had a breath of fresh air together. - - -THE END - - - - -INDEX - -_Index_ - - -_Adneter Kalk_, pink marble, 143, 181 - -Aldertree, connected with name of province, 153 - -Alemannic settlement of province, 62; - specimen of dialect, 139 - -_Algäu-schiefer_, Liassic shale, 145, 148 - -Alpila, alp, 62 - -Alpine rose (rhododendron), 6, 136, 143 - -Anna, the old nurse, her passion for idiots and corpses, 39-40; - for wolf-stories, 214; - gets it hot, 95; - shakes chocolate from a tree, 213; - not old at all, 214 - -Ants, unreliable workmen, 124 - -Aretius, botanist, 240 - -Arlberg, mountain pass, boundary of province, 53; - railway under, 150; - derivation of name, 153; - wine transport over, 197 - -Aurora borealis, 5 - - -Badger, a tame, 28; - its fat, 116 - -Bädle inn (Nüziders), 186 - -Bädle inn (Tiefis), 135 - -Baedeker, 150 - -_Bährenloch_, artificial cavern, 26-28, 125, 184 - -Bats, as pets, 28 - -Bears, 188 - -Beautification Society, of Bludenz, 27, 186; - of Blumenegg, 172 - -Beaver, shot on the Elbe, 129 - -Beds, local, their discomforts, 3; - double, their uses, 222 - -Bergmann, Prof. Joseph, 53 - -Berlepsch, H. A., 188 - -Bernhardt, B. (Velcurio), the first married priest, 169 - -Birds, various, 125-130, 181, 235, 239 - -_Blaufelchen_, 206-208. - _See_ Coregonus. - -Bludenz, town, 6, 23, 29, 48, 53, 59, 112, 114, 145, 147, 152, 157, 187, 235; - destroyed by fire, 132; - its museum, 139; - height above sea-level, 184 - -Bludesch, village, 44, 46, 48, 60, 163, 190, 234; - derivation of name, 62; - its former vineyards, 198; - old school-house, 215; - Krone inn, 216 - -Blumenegg, castle-ruin, origin of name, 72; - its charm and history, 74-80; - waterfall, 75, 172; - popular reception of its lords, 55; - their enactments, 136; - contrasted with Jagdberg ruin, 174 - -Boar, wild, 187 - -Bock, Hieronymus, botanist, 73 - -Bolshevism, manufacture of, 113 - -Brand, village, 157 - -Bratz, village, 111 - -Bregenz, town, 53, 129, 187; - museum and libraries, 151, 181, 198, 214, 216; - Protestant cemetery, 200; - ostensible reasons for going there, 198; - real reason, 206 - -Bregenzerwald, district, 32, 53, 187 - -Brehm, A. E., 184 - -Bruhin, Th. A., monk-naturalist, 91-93; - on woodpecker, 129; - on _salamandra maculosa_, 184; - on wild beasts of province, 187, 188; - Professor at Meherau, 199 - -_Brunnenmacher_ (father) mountaineer, presumably hirsute, 25; - (son) mountaineer, indubitably hirsute, 25; - his smile and his blasphemies, 25, 26; - takes author in hand, 28, 128 - -Buchboden, village, 91 - -Bulrushes, 100, 231 - -Bürs, village, 126, 127, 179, 185 - -Bürserberg, village, 126 - -Butter, smuggled into Switzerland, 114 - -Butterflies, various, 7, 117, 118, 169; - frozen on snowfield, 158 - - -Capercailzie, 60-61 - -Castle-ruins, their charming designations, 72 - -Celtic inhabitants of province, 62, 151, 152; - hill-fort, 151; - place-names, 169 - -Cement, an abomination, 77, 132, 225 - -Cemeteries, poetic German names for, 71 - -Chamois, 101, 144, 145; - shoots taken by Swiss, 33; - how to bag, 157 - -“Château aux fenêtres.” _See_ Jordan - -_Chronicon Hirsaugiense_, destroyed by fire, 78 - -Cider, getting tipsy on, 237 - -Climate, grows damper, 197 - -Clutterbuck, Mr., a droll personage, 224 - -Cocoa, an abomination, 10 - -Cockchafer. _See_ Engerlinge. - -Coffee, how to roast, 34 - -Constance, lake of, 6, 53, 129, 152, 198 - -_Coregonus_, a delectable fish, 206 - -Costumes, local, 53 - -Cotterill, H. B., 85 - -Cotton mills, family property, 61, 64 - -Cows, explode from over-eating, 208 - -Crayfish, 44 - -_Crétins_, not discoverable hereabouts, 39 - -Currency, effects of its depreciation, 109-15 - - -Dachshund, lady-dog, sets a bad example, 4 - -Dalaas, village, 139, 149, 180 - -Dalla Torre, Prof. quoted, 93 - -Dolls, massacre of, 217 - -_Dorfberg_, an ancient road, 40, 41 - -Dornbirn, borough, 188 - -Douglass, John, why he settled in Austria, 62; - his way with beggars, 64, 66 - -Douglass, John Sholto, climbs the Zimba, 21-23; - president of provincial Alpine Club, 24; - carries on business of his father, 66; - his paper on Rothe Wand, 137; - fatal accident, 138, 144, 148-150; - writings, 150-154; - Lünersee hut called after him, 159; - discovers mammoth-tusk, 181; - his disciplinary measures, 222, 223 - -Drei Schwestern, mountain, 245 - -Druso, Drusenfluh, etc., pre-Roman names, 153 - -Drusus, Roman general, 62, 152 - -Düns, village, 169 - - -Edelweiss, 8, 245 - -Edelraute, plant, 143 - -Education, in France, 14; - a sound, 40 - -Elephant-trap, a disused, 117 - -Elk, discovery of skull and horns of, 139 - -Els alp, 147 - -Elser Schröfen, cliffs, crossing their talus, 145-147; - due to disrupture, 147 - -_Engerlinge_, cockchafer-larvæ, destructive to crops, 110 - -Erratic blocks, 180, 189, 190, 234 - -Eulenloch, dell, 44 - - -Falling in love, with a mountain, 30 - -Falster, torrent, 72; - derivation of name, 63 - -Feldbächle, stream, 61, 235; - going to bed in, 63. - _See_ Montiola. - -Feldkirch, town, 53, 73, 115, 150, 152, 169; - former vineyards at, 197 - -Fire, destruction of villages by 42, 71, 126-128 - -Fishery regulations of 1690, 136 - -Florimont. _See_ Blumenegg. - -Flowers, favorite, 73, 180 - -Fön wind, derivation of name, 63; - responsible for outbreaks of fire, 71, 134; - transports butterflies, 158 - -Fontanella, village, 62 - -Food, local specialties, 11-12 - -“Forêt nordique,” tract of wood, 135, 136 - -Forests, their charm, 41, 42, 102 - -Formaletsch, mountain, 139 - -Formarin lake, 139, 143, 144, 155, 181; - derivation of name, 63 - -Fossils, where found, 181 - -Fox, as pet, 28; - civil behavior of a, 182 - -Frastafeders, castle-ruin, 63 - -Frastanz, village, 137, 245; - battle of, 220 - -Freiburger hut, 181 - -Freytag, Gustav, 80 - -Furkla alp, 6, 147 - - -Gais, locality, 62, 66, 224 - -Galgen-tobel, torrent, 29, 147, 184 - -Gamperdona, alp, 244; - derivation of name, 63 - -Gamsboden, mountain, 143 _seq._ - -Garnets, hunting for, 54, 180 - -Gasünd, hamlet, 126 - -Geiger, Dr., prescribes only camomile, 46 - -Gentians, 240 - -Gesner, Conrad, 240 - -Gleziska, meadow, 213, 214 - -Gluttony, when to be discouraged, 12; - when permissible, 13 - -Goats, legislation regarding, 136 - -Goitre, 43 - -Grabherr, Joseph, on Blumenegg rule, 136 - -Grand-aunts, the delight of childhood, 41, 47, 96, 218 - -Grandfather, maternal, a feudal monster, always spick-and-span, 200; - excavates in imagination the Acropolis of Athens, 201, 202; - tells Prince Consort how to handle Queen Victoria, 202; - sometimes mistaken for an angel, 203; - dominates his harim, 204, 205; - vicious to the last, 205 - -Grandmother, paternal, applies Gregory’s Powder with unexpected result, 97; - her attitude towards tobacco, 100; - insists upon recitations of “Marmion” and gets them, 103; - devours roly-poly _pour encourager les autres_, 104 - -Grimm’s Fairy Tales, occasionally inane, 17 - -Gross Litzner, mountain, 144 - -Gstinswald, forest, 72, 73 - - -Halde Wässerle, spring, 184 - -Halden zu Haldenegg, von der, noble family, 216 - -Haller, A. von, 221, 240 - -Hanging Stone, cliff, 73, 77, 134, 180, 186, 187 - -Hard, village, 129 - -Hare, how to shoot, 127; - how not to cook, 207 - -Hay-huts, change in style of building, 45, 214, 239 - -Hexenthurm, rock-needle, 138 - -Hinedo, Peter, author, 14 - -Hirsch-sprung (Stag’s Leap), meadow, 42, 44, 45 - -Hochgerach, mountain, 6 - -Hohenems, borough, 181 - -Hoher Frassen, mountain, 6, 137; - death on, 24 - -Honstetter, Karl, taxidermist, 129 - -Horse-flies, a pest, 61 - -Hüttenwanzen, not wanted hereabouts, 25 - - -Ibex, a Swiss, 129 - -Idiots, 13, 37; - indifferent specimens of, 38; - types of the old school, 39 - -Ill, river, 53, 55, 59; - recently embanked, 54; - its prehistoric shore, 148; - new bridges over, 230 - - -Jagdberg, castle-ruin, 172-176, 235, 240 - -Jakob, a villager worth watching, 236 - -Jordan, ruined mansion, 163 _seq._, 189 - -Josefinum, refuge for children, 172 _seq._ - -Jumbo the jovial, not like the rest of them, 91 - - -Kanisfluh, mountain, 138, 245 - -Kaufmann, Angelika, 32, 199 - -Keilpolster, an abomination, 3 - -Kirschwasser, present price of, 244 - -Kloster alp, awful experience on, 7 - -Krupsertobel, torrent, 29 - -Kuhloch, natural arch, 126 - - -Lämmergeier, 29, 129 - -Lagutz, alp, 129, 155; - derivation of name, 63 - -Lake dwellings, former, destroyed by fire, 71; - persist into Roman times, 151; - relics of, 152; - their grape-cultivation, 198 - -Lamb, Charles, 86 - -_Landregen_, a persistent drizzle, 3, 33 - -Lasko, dog, his well, 229, 230, 231, 234 - -Lasko the Second, dog, 231 - -Latz, hamlet, 185 - -Lauterach, village, 152 - -Lech, river, 53 - -Lech, village, 33, 101, 155 - -Lindau, island, 152 - -Lindenspeur, G. L. von, builder of Jordan mansion, 163, 174; - fond of windows, 165 - -Lorüns, village, 181, 184 - -Ludesch, village, 72, 73, 78, 115, 189, 239; - its rifle range, 32, 116; - derivation of name, 62 - -Ludescherberg, hamlet, 6, 100 - -Lünersee, lake, its shelter-hut, 24, 159 - -Lutz, river, 53, 58, 59, 72, 73; - recently embanked, 54; - derivation of name, 62; - its prehistoric shore, 116; - old bridge over, 230 - -Lynx, 187 - - -MacDougal, Skye-terrier, specializes in cats, 233, 234 - -Mammoth tusk, 181 - -Mangili, Prof., 9 - -Maple trees, 99 - -Marmot, lives in colonies, 8, 143; - its fat, 8; - ingratitude of a hibernating, 9; - freakish dentition of a, 10; - derivation of popular name, 63 - -Marshes, their vegetation, 44, 240 - -Martens, 115 - -Marul, village, 129, 147, 155 - -Mattli, sportsman and station-master, 127-128; - on last wolf, 187 - -Mauren, village, 151 - -Mehrerau, convent, 199 - -Mellau, village, 138 - -Midwives, raise their tariff, 115 - -Milton, his botany, 85, 86 - -Minerals, where found, 180 - -Moles, destruction of, 110, 115 - -Mondspitze, Mountain, 6 - -Montavon, valley, 9, 23, 53, 244 - -Montiola, brook, 61-64, 125, 135, 137, 235; - its source, 136, 138. - _See_ Feldbächle. - -Moralists, their limitations, 86 - -Münster, Sebastian, 169 - - -Nauders, village, 188 - -Nenzing, village, 53, 58, 60, 172, 188, 244 - -Nüziders, village, 148, 186; - destroyed by fire, 71, 134 - -“Nymphe pudique,” fountain, 46, 234 - - -Oak, a memorable, 77 - -Obdorf, village, 184 - -Ortler, mountain, 159 - -Ovid, blunders in botany, 85 - - -Palladas, grammarian, English rendering of his epigram, 167 - -Peasants, their grievances, 111; - catch pneumonia supervising cows at pasture, 209 - -Petrifying brook, a marvel, 41, 64, 189, 213 - -Pines, a region of stunted, 59 - -Pines, dwarf, their local names, 6, 153; - deserve protection, 7 - -Piz Buin, mountain, 150 - -Piz Linard, mountain, 150 - -_Plumeau_, an abomination, 3 - -Plum-tarts, how to eat, 245 - -Poets, should avoid towns, 84; - generally born naked, 168; - talk nonsense about pomegranates, 206 - -Potatoes, how to cook, 11; - local names of, 72 - -“Pré des papillons,” meadow, 169, 170, 239 - -Prime, Miss, her dismal experiences as governess, 221 _seq._ - -Procter, Adelaide, 198 - -Prudishness of countryfolk, 236 - - -Quadera, meadow, 62, 74 - -Quadertatsch, an amiable beast, subject to accidents, 182, 184 - -Quinet, Edgar, 202 - - -R., Mr., a young brigand, studies the English language, 12 _seq._; - starts a love affair. 42 _seq._; - progress of English studies, 165; - progress of love affair, 130, 190, 241 - -Radona-tobel, torrent, 149 - -Raggal, village, 7, 100, 155; - Eldorado of idiots, 37; - derivation of name, 63 - -Ramsay, Dean, 221 - -Rellsthal, valley, 23, 159 - -Rhætian inhabitants of province, 62, 151 - -Rhætikon, mountain-group 7, 21, 99, 182 - -Rhæto-Roman names, 6, 62-63, 72, 111, 152, 153, 179 - -Rhine, upper, 6, 53; - regulating its river-bed, 54, 152 - -Riedbach, streamlet, 44, 235; - its source, 45, 234 - -Roedeer, 156, 187 - -Röns, village, 169 - -Romans, occupy province, 60, 62, 151; - cultivate vine, 198 - -Romansh names. _See_ Rhæto-Roman. - -Rosenegg, castle-ruin, 72, 179-182 - -Rothe Wand, mountain, 137, 143, 148, 150 - -Rothenbrunnen, mineral spring, 136 - -“Ruisseau des écrevisses,” 44, 45, 135. - _See_ Riedbach. - -“Runde Scheible,” how they came to disappear from the landscape, 48 - -Rungalin village, 26, 184, 188; - derivation of name, 63 - - -Säntis mountain, tragedy on, 29 - -Sagliain, glacier, 150 - -St. Anne, church, 37, 55, 172 - -St. Anton, village, 180 - -St. Gallenkirch, village, 9 - -St. Gebhard, chapel, 200 - -St. Gerold, hamlet and convent, 91-93; - its vineyard, 197 - -St. Martin, church, 186; - its Gothic ornaments, 214 - -St. Nicholas, church, 48, 190 - -St. Peter, convent, 152 - -Salamander, alpine, 182; - maculated, 184 - -Sarotla alp, 23, 24 - -Satteins, village, 95 - -Scesaplana, mountain, 24, 29, 62, 74, 244; - its summit, 158 - -Scesa-tobel, torrent, 59, 127, 148, 181 - -Schattenburg, castle-ruin, 72 - -Schlee, Johann Georg, his _Relation of Rhetia_, 76; - on wild beasts, 187, 188 - -Schlehen. _See_ Schlee. - -Schlins, village, 169; - its pleasanttavern, 172, 235 - -Schlosstobel, torrent, 63, 72 - -Schmalz, a desirable condiment, 11, 114 - -Schmatzen, a noise forbidden at dinner, 92-93 - -Schnapps (spirits), varieties of, 33 - -Schnepfenstrich, tract of forest, 60 - -Schreiber, E., _quoted_, 184 - -Schubert, Fräulein, gets the sack, 215 - -Shelter-huts in mountains, degenerate into hotels, 24 - -Silberthal, valley, 34 - -Silvretta, glacier, 150 - -Sippins, dog, specializes in fleas and beer, 232 - -Sister of author, leads him astray, 63, 94, 237 - -Skittles played with skulls, 214 - -Sliding on fir-branches, its risks, 5-6 - -Solidarity, a catchword, 175-176; - its grotesque results, 231 - -Som, schoolmaster, 215, 216 - -Sonnenberg, castle-ruin, 72, 186 - -Sonntag, village, 136 - -Sporting pictures, their uses, 4, 176 - -Spuller lake, 139, 144 - -Squirrel, with malformed teeth, 10; - death of a tame, 28; - declining in numbers, 238 - -Statuette of bronze, a remarkable, 152 - -Stelvio pass, crossing on high bicycles, 159 - -Steub, Ludwig, 101; _quoted_, 153 - -Storrbach, torrent, 72 - -Strassburger (now Mannheimer) hut, 24, 157, 158 - -Strassenhaus, railway-station, 127 - -Sulzfluh, mountain, 29 - -Sulz-Röthis, village, 197 - -Suser, consequences of drinking, 235 - -Switzerland, projected annexation to, 33 - - -Tabalada, stream, 62, 224 - -Tattermandl, derivation of name, 184. - _See_ Quadertatsch. - -Tavern, our residence, its food and comforts, 3, 4, 11, 12, 107, 108; - its proprietors, 31-34; - prices at, 112 - -Theocritus, seldom caught napping, 85 - -Thirty Years’ War, 55, 77 - -Thüringen, village, 134, 184; - derivation of name, 169 - -Thüringerberg, village, 94, 95, 190 - -Tiberius, Emperor, 62, 152 - -Tiefis, village, 33, 40, 49, 71, 103; - visit to its tavern, 42; - another visit, 130; - another, 190; - another, 241; - destroyed by fire, 130 - -Tilisuna lake, 63 - -Tourists, their climbing feats, 23-24, 157, 159 - -Townbred persons, often incomplete, 83-86 - -Trout, how to catch, 224 - -Tschallenga, mountain, 55, 83 - -Tschudi, F. von, 188 - -Tschusi, R. von, 129 - -Tuckwell, Rev. W., 85 - - -Valbona, mountain, 62 - -Val d’Aosta, 39 - -Valduna, lunatic asylum, 38; - interviews at, 190-196 - -Valentschina (Walserthal), 76 - -Vallis Drusiana (Walgau), derivation of name, 62, 152, 153 - -Valtellina, 39 - -Valuta, its workings, 113 - -Vandans, village, 159 - -Verdigris, dining off, 47 - -Vermunt, Maz, 63 - -Village, statistics of our, 13 - -Vineyards, no longer planted, 197 - -Violets, yellow, 143; - red and white, 163 - -Vonbun, Dr. J. F., _quoted_, 139. - -Vorarlberg, province, 6, 53, 153; - projected annexation to Switzerland, 33; - sends students to Wittenberg, 169 - -Vorarlbergische Chronik, 132; - _quoted_, 32 - - -Walchner, H., 129 - -Walgau, central valley of province. _See_ Vallis Drusiana. - -Walserthal, valley, 79, 91, 136, 244; - famous for idiots, 37; - when colonized, 53; - dialect and costume, _ibid._ - -Wasserkälb (_Gordius_), 232 - -Watts, Dr. Isaac, _quoted_, 12 - -Weisses Kreuz, hotel, its manager worth making love to, 207 - -Widderstein, mountain, 245 - -Wildkirchle, rock-needle, 137, 138 - -Wine, qualities and prohibitive price of, 43, 109; - decline in local production of, 196; - wine-bibbing in olden days, 198 - -Wolf, the last, 187; - why extinct in Alps, 188; - wolf-stories, 214 - -Wolfart, Lord of Blumenegg, 80 - -Wood of the ----, a once awesome forest, 170, 238 - -Woodcock shooting, 60 - -Woodlands, administration of, 135, 136 - - -Zalim alp, 24, 157 - -Zimba, mountain, 41, 138; - first ascent of, 21-22; - its victims, 23 - -Zimmerman, Dr., responsible for cataclysm, 7 - -“Zoologist,” referred to, 10 - -Zürich, derivation of name, 169 - -Zürs, alp, 33 - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] Called “Latschen” hereabouts, because they are “gelegt”--pressed -earthwards by winter snows; or else by the old Rhætic name of “Zuondra” -which we sometimes twist into “Sonderinen.” They are more generally -known as “Legföhren.” These groves of _Pinus pumilio_ deserve careful -protection; they shield the meadows below from the devastating effects -of cloudbursts in the upper regions, from stone-cataracts and--by -welding all successive snowfalls into that first one which lies -anchored among their twisted limbs--from avalanches. - -[2] He has surprised me, of late, by a new acquirement: a considerable -familiarity with Polish history. They only began to teach it quite -recently, he says; and thereby hangs a tale. It would seem that an -ukase has gone forth from educational headquarters in Paris, to the -effect that the youth of the entire country is to be brought up in the -belief that the Poles, the old friends of France, are a prodigy among -nations; every phase of their contemptible politics and degrading -parliamentary wrangles during the last few centuries has to be regarded -as of epoch-making importance--as opposed to the futile history of -their enemies on the East. Nothing, in short, is good enough for -Poland; nothing bad enough for Russia. And all because a misguided pack -of French capitalists, after those Toulon celebrations, lent their -millions to Russia, expecting to receive the usual three hundred per -cent profit which is not yet forthcoming and, let us hope, never will -be. An interesting example by what means “patriotic” convictions are -nurtured, and for what ends. - -[3] We walked up to the _Bährenloch_ last week. The path is neglected -and quite overgrown in places; the cave seems to have lost its -popularity since the war. I was glad to see that old yew tree--rather a -rare growth hereabouts--still clinging to the rock near its entrance. -We went in with candles and saw one bat fluttering about; I felt no -great desire to take it home with me. The pets one kept! Guinea-pigs, -first of all, _Meerschweinle_ which, in a burst of infantile humor, -I used to call _Immermehrschweinle_, alluding to their miraculous -fecundity. Not a bad joke, now I think of it. And the last was a -black squirrel, that ended in pitiable fashion. I took it out of its -nest and brought it up on the bottle, like a baby. It grew to be my -companion all the time, free to come and free to go, and there was -nothing I could not do with it; we were really devoted to each other. -Afterwards, having to leave the country, I gave it in charge of a -certain female relative who also loved it. The cage was placed on the -top of one of those enormous stoves of green majolica tiles. Winter -came, and the maid lighted the fire, forgetful of the cage above. Then -she remembered, and rushed back into the room. Too late! The poor beast -had meanwhile been slowly, quite slowly, roasted to death. No more pets -after that. - -[4] Here is a local and contemporary appreciation of this glory of art. -“Mit höchstem Rechte verdient hier die aus dieser Landschaft gebürtige -Angelika Kaufmann eine Stelle. Dieses mit den seltensten Vorzügen -des Genies ausgestattete Frauenzimmer macht wirklich in der Malerei -Epoche, und lebt diesmal als eine der berühmtesten Künstlerinnen des -sich neigenden achtzehnten Jahrhunderts, in glücklicher Ehe in Rom, zur -Ehre ihres Vaterlandes, das auf sie stolz seyn darf.” (Vorarlbergische -Chronik. Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 81.) - -[5] Professor Joseph Bergmann, in an extremely learned booklet -(“Untersuchungen über die freyen Walliser oder Walser.” Vienna, Carl -Gerold, 1844) has proved that our Walsers, an industrious people of -Burgundian stock, emigrated hitherward from the Swiss Canton Wallis -(Valais) at the end of the thirteenth century and settled in this -wild valley and its surroundings. It is they who brought it to its -present high state of prosperity. They have kept their Swiss accent -to this day, with certain idioms of their own--not every Englishman -can translate “Wie tüschalat’s Bobbe so schö im Pfülfli!”--and their -costume is more strange than beautiful. In olden days nearly every -settlement here (Bludenz, Feldkirch, Nenzing, etc.) had its own -costume. There are only three left now; that of the Walserthal, the -Montavon, and Bregenzerwald. - -[6] I cannot suggest what Tabalada means unless it be what I think it -is--a comical perversion of its Romansh name Aulat=_aqua lauta_, a name -appropriate up to a few years ago, for it was the most crystalline -water I ever saw, till we forced some of the discolored Ill to flow -into it, for factory purposes at Gais. And the real name of the -“Feldbächle” is Montiola-bach, which is also Latin; all that hilly -region where it rises used to be called Montiola; indeed, a great -number of the place-names I shall be mentioning have origin in Romansh, -which is such a detestable word that I mean to call it Rhæto-Roman in -future. - -Our old Rhætian inhabitants, now held to be Celts and not Etruscans as -certain scholars used to maintain, were defeated by Drusus and Tiberius -in 15 B. C. in this very plain--so tradition says; certainly the Walgau -is marked as “Vallis Drusiana” in old charts and chronicles, though -another derivation is yet more plausible (see p. 152). The province -was thereafter romanized, and traces of this Latin domination can be -found, for instance, in those single personal names like Florentinus, -Seganus, Ursicinus, which persisted hereabouts into the twelfth -century; the present double family ones, of Alemannic origin, became -fixed by the end of the thirteenth. As to our Rhæto-Roman names of -localities--some of them speak for themselves; there is no difficulty -about Scesaplana, Alpila, Fontanella, Quadera and so on, though it is -rather puzzling to find a high rocky summit called “Valbona.” Lutz is -_lutum_, the turbid stream; Ludesch (Lodasco) stands on its banks. -Bludesch was called Pludassis (_paludes_) by reason of its swampy -situation. The Fön, the hot wind, is _Favonius_. Lagutz=_lacus_, a -lake; which it doubtless used to be. Raggal (Roncal in chronicles), -Rungalin and other such sites=_runcare_. Gamperdona=_campus rotundus_, -which you will find most apposite, if you go there. Other place-names -are not so easy to disentangle. Barplons=_Pratum planum_. Vanova=_Via -nova_. The “Schlosstobel” at the foot of Blumenegg castle used to be -called “Falster”=_Vallis torrens_. Trasseraus=_tres suors_ (_sorores_). -Frastafeders is simply “old Frastanz.” One thing strikes me as -suggestive. That Rhætians or Romans should give names to conspicuous -peaks--Vallula, Zimba, Furka, Saladina: there are dozens of them--is -intelligible enough. You can see a mountain from below, without -climbing up. You cannot see a lake from below. Yet the names of some of -our secluded Alpine waters, like Tilisuna and Formarin, whatever their -origin, are not Alemannic and are therefore pre-Alemannic; which proves -that these remote and inhospitable spots were already then frequented -for the sake, no doubt, of their brief summer pasturage. Whence I -deduce that the population of those days must have been denser than one -generally imagines. Formarin, for the rest, is pronounced “Famurin” -which may be “Val Murin,” from the quantities of marmots (_mure -montana_, contracted into our “Burmentli”) up there. If this conjecture -sounds far-fetched, let me hasten to say that it is not mine, but that -of Max Vermunt (“Stille Winkel in Vorarlberg”). - -[7] We had our ups and downs in later times. One of the “ups” was -when the factory was partially burnt some thirty years ago, and the -insurance compensation enabled us not only to rebuild it on a far finer -scale, but to purchase the neighboring establishment of Gais which -happened to be in the market. - -[8] The Fön, if it then existed, may be responsible for the destruction -by fire of so many of the prehistoric Swiss lake settlements. - -[9] “Hystorische Relation,” etc., of Rhetia by Johann Georg Schlehen of -Rottweyl. There is a copy in the British Museum. His name is Schlee; -the Schlehen on the title-page is the accusative. - -[10] Justice was dispensed in sight of the gallows, the _signa meri -imperi_, near the Hanging Stone (a conspicuous cliff on the Bludenz -road)--dispensed upon a certain fateful meadow, the path to which used -to be known as the “gallows’ way,” and the meadow itself “Gerichti” -(Court of Justice). These names seem to have faded out of the popular -memory. I like to think that the proceedings took place near that -wide-branching oak, by far the finest in the district, at whose foot -I used to recline in olden days. It stands between the Hanging Stone -and our present railway station, opposite that detestable new cement -factory, on the south side of the line. There is certainly a path -leading to it from the cliff, and perhaps some dim tradition attached -to this oak has saved it from the ax through all these years. - -[11] I have just discovered, rummaging among some old papers, a musical -composition by my mother entitled “Blumenegg.” It is dated October, -1861; three years before her marriage. - -[12] The former of these speaks of Milton’s “habitually loose botany.” -No great blemish; given the themes he loved, it might be argued that -much of Milton’s peculiar aroma would evaporate, had he been meticulous -in such details like Tennyson or de Tabley. Theocritus is hard to catch -napping; but Ovid, for example, tells us that _buxus_ grows on Mount -Hymettus. There is no box on Hymettus, though it prospers in certain -gardens of Athens (e. g., the Crown Prince’s); Ovid was thinking of the -dwarf holly. It is the worst of writing poetry, that you are apt to be -torn between respect for truth and the exigencies of scansion. What -would the painfully correct Lucretius have done with this _buxus_? - -[13] Professor K. W. von Dalla Torre mentions him in his “Zoologische -Literatur von Tirol und Vorarlberg bis inclusive 1885.” He enumerates -eighteen different monographs by him, dealing with the fauna alone of -this province. (His botanical works are more important.) He also notes -that Bruhin is “at present (1886) in Columbus, Ohio, U. S. A.” It is a -far cry to Ohio! If he stayed there any length of time, he is sure to -have made a name for himself. He always signs himself “Th. A.”; Dalla -Torre calls him “Theodor,” which is probably correct; in the list of -subscribers to Heer’s “Urwelt der Schweiz” (1865, p. xviii) he figures -as “Thomas.” - -[14] We generally went to Lech in threes. Now the inn at Lech was not a -bad one; so good indeed, that its praises have been sung by no less an -authority than the writer Ludwig Steub, who was also a frequent visitor -at our house in times gone by. But our own cuisine and cellar were -still better, and accordingly we were wont to take up by cart a vast -store of provisions, only sleeping at the inn and occasionally ordering -some little dish or a quarter of wine for the sake of appearances. To -recoup himself, the innkeeper used to charge us so preposterously for -these trifles that on one occasion we had a solemn row with him and -refused to pay. He yielded. Not long afterwards there was printed in -some local paper a spirited poem in the mock-heroic style, with the -refrain: - - Die Heiligen Drei Könige, mit irrendem Stern-- - Die essen und trinken, und zahlen nicht gern! - -I wish I had kept a copy. - -[15] I knew an old hunter of Ludesch who claimed to have killed -seventy-five pine martens near that village. I have seen only two in my -whole life hereabouts; and not a single one within the last thirty-five -years, despite never-ending rambles among these forests. But we had a -pair of beech martens under the eaves of our house, which they reached -by climbing along the branches of a mighty walnut tree that leaned over -the roof. In the daytime they were never to be found. By night they -made such a din of scuttling and scampering that visitors, sleeping in -rooms below, had to be warned of their existence. - -[16] This particular specimen is commemorated by Rudolph von Tschusi -(son of the well-known ornithologist) in “Ornithologisches Jahrbuch,” -IX, 1898, Heft 2. According to H. Walchner’s “Ornithologie des -Bodenseebeckens” (1835) the ibis is of the “greatest rarity” on -this sheet of water, only a single instance of its occurrence being -then known, which is precisely why I bought this one. Apropos of -woodpeckers--Bruhin, in his “Wirbelthiere Vorarlbergs” (1868) also says -that he saw the lesser spotted kind only once; the bird must therefore -be far from common. And this year, for the first time, I had the -pleasure of spying the three-toed one. We were walking down from Lagutz -to Marul (see p. 155) through that magnificent Alpine forest when we -noticed a pair of them. They kept close together, one following the -other and we following both; so tame were they, that we could approach -within a few yards and see the yellow on the head of the male. I -observed that they had the same habit as the middle-spotted woodpecker, -of investigating carefully not only the trunk but the branches of -trees. While watching them I thought: how wise of you to have kept out -of my way till now! - -[17] Bludenz itself was twice destroyed by fire. _See_ “Vorarlbergische -Chronik” (Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 108). - -[18] Woodlands have always been cherished here. Wood inspectors were -appointed as early as 1626, possibly earlier; they had to traverse the -forests every spring, summer and autumn, and to report the slightest -damage to the trees. Four years later, an excellent rule was framed -to prevent the ever-increasing damage to forest-growth by herds of -goats: whoso has three cows, may keep no goat whatever; the owner of -two cows may keep one goat; the possession of a single cow entitled -you to three goats and no more. This stamped out the goat mischief. -Such were the Lords of Blumenegg, from whom certain modern governments -might well take a lesson; like sensible tyrants, they not only laid -down wise regulations on this and other matters, but saw to it that -they were carried out (those gallows!). In the inhospitable recesses -of the Walserthal, at five hours’ march from their castle, lying -in a caldron of bleak gray crags--an excellent chamois-ground--is -the iron-spring and bathing establishment of Rothenbrunnen, where -the Alpine rhododendrons droop over your bedroom window; it was the -Blumenegg people who erected the first building here in 1650, with -accommodation for forty patients. Twenty-six years later they founded a -school in the remote hamlet of Sonntag. Their fishery regulations were -on the same enlightened scale. As early as 1690 no fishing of any kind -was permitted during the spawning season (21 September to 30 November); -nets, moreover, were to have meshes wide enough to allow the escape of -every fish less than seven inches in length, which happens to be the -precise limit fixed, at this present moment, by the conservators of -the Exe and other English rivers. For these and other details of the -Blumenegg rule _see_ the exhaustive monograph on this subject by one -of our best local antiquarians, the late Joseph Grabherr, priest of -Satteins (Bregenz, 1907). - -[19] During these works at the Spuller lake they unearthed, last year, -the skull and horns of an elk; the relic was unfortunately bought -by a Swiss who carried it off to his own country; it ought to have -gone into the newly founded Bludenz Museum. The Spuller lake is the -locality of a strange devil-legend and also of a ghost-story which -have been preserved by Dr. F. J. Vonbun in his “Sagen Vorarlbergs” -(Innsbruck, 1858). I will transcribe a line or two of the former, -omitting his accents and pronounciation marks, in order to give a -sample of our Alemannic dialect: “Es set ama wienicht-obed amol en ma -zum en andera: ‘los nochber, i wetta mi zitgae, du traust di net, mer -min schmalzkübelzolfa hinet vo Spullers z holla.’ Der nochber set ‘woll -frile, d wett gilt’ und nümt en füfspoeriga hund, stahel, fürste und -schwamm und got Spullers zue. Wia-n er an stofel kunnt, bringt em der -butz vo Spullers de zolfa a guets stuck scho etgega, aber der nochber -set zuenem, los gueta fründ,” etc. - -[20] The Alpine rose thrives in the climate of Deeside; it grows taller -and greener than on these hills, and loses none of its fragrance. It -should not be planted in the shade. - -[21] At the easterly end of these Elser Schröfen there is a convenient -path down between the rocks; it connects Marul, via the Els and Furkla -alps, with Bludenz. Regarding the cliffs themselves--this decorative -ridge seems to be of recent formation; I imagine it is the result of -a rupture, and that the hill formerly trended in a soft curve towards -the Furkla. When the divulsion took place none can tell; but I think I -know where the lost material is to be found, if anybody cares to pick -it up. This broken mountain was carried down the Galgen-tobel, and now -forms the vast southward-sloping triangle of raised ground which is -crossed by the driving-road from Bludenz to Nüziders. On the spot, the -existence of a deltoid tract here is naturally not apparent. If you -mount to any slight eminence on the other side of the Ill, you cannot -fail to perceive its characteristic shape and to divine its origin; it -is the work of an agency similar to that which produced the northward -sloping delta of the Scesa-tobel immediately opposite. The railway -Bludenz-Nüziders skirts at one point a steep grassy bank recalling that -described on p. 117; I take it to have been carved into this deposit by -the old Ill, in its more vigorous days. - -[22] At the spot where, in later years, the Arlberg railway came to -stride over this torrent, a memorial tablet has been erected to him. -I was unaware of its existence and only learned the fact two weeks -ago--from Baedeker. - -[23] Douglass (John Sholto). “Die Römer in Vorarlberg.” Thüringen. Im -Selbstverlage des Verfassers. 1870. 4to. Paper cover. Title page, two -pages index of contents. One page with half title, 67 pages of text. At -the end 4 photographic plates, one of them in color. - -[24] He speaks of our primitive lake-dwellers as being of a different -race and anterior to these--a race that can be proved none the less to -have lingered into the Roman period; which makes him wonder why there -is no mention of them in Latin writers, whereas Herodotus has left us -such an excellent description. (There is a hint of them in Cæsar’s -account of the Britons; and a representation, on Trajan’s Column, of -what might be a Dacian palafitte.) Sundry objects of this epoch have -been found at our end of Lake Constance. To other evidence showing -that the inner Walgau, the Ill valley between Feldkirch and Bludenz, -was at one time also or at least partially a lake, I can add a small -confirmatory fact, namely, the discovery by myself, on the 13 October, -1883, of one of those spindle-whorls of burnt clay--unornamented, this -one--which are characteristic of the lacustrine era. I drew it out of -the earth in the then fresh railway cutting below the convent of St. -Peter at Bludenz, and take some little credit to myself for detecting -it, and realizing its significance, at that tender age. I know not -whether other relics of lake-dwellers have been found up here; this -one specimen is sufficient evidence of their existence for me. It is -worth noting, too, that not a single old village of the inner Walgau -lies in the plain (which may also be due to fear of Ill floods). My -contribution to the antiquities of later periods consists of the -statuette here figured. It was found not far from Lauterach during -those Rhine-regulation works mentioned on p. 54, and I was obliged to -give its owner a diamond scarf-pin which had cost me £65--those were -opulent days--before he could be induced to part with it. The material -is bronze, all except the iron lance-blade and rivetings under the -feet; its height, to the tip of the lance, is 17½ centimeters. Every -detail in this little work of art is challenging, and I will not lose -myself in conjectures as to its age or origin. - -[25] Ludwig Steub says that Droussa, Drossa, signifies aldertree or -thicket of alders, that the Rhætian form of this word was probably -_tarusa_ or _trusa_, and that the valley is called _Trusiana_ in -chronicles, “which may be translated as valley of alders.” I have come -across it also marked as _Thrusiana_, and may point out that the dwarf -mountain alder (_alnus viridis_) is to this day called “Droosle” in -our dialect. If Steub be correct, it is an odd circumstance, indeed, -that this identical tree should once more have crept into the modern -designation of this province: Vor_arl_berg, from the German _Erle_, an -elder. “Arlberg”--“Arlenberg” in some old books--has also been derived -from “Arla,” the dwarf pine, which is said to be one of its names in -“German-speaking Rhætia.” It may be so. I have never heard these pines -called “Aria” hereabouts, though they have several other names (_see_ -p. 6). They are sometimes called “Adla” in the Bregenxerwald. - -[26] This last part is the track from which the two young men, referred -to on p. 24, contrived to fall and kill themselves. I would take any -child up there, though not by night. It may be that they had no nails -to their boots and slipped on some rocks freshly glazed with ice, -dragging each other over the brink. - -[27] Nothing is known, I fancy, of the meaning of those old place-names -like Schlins, Düns, Röns, and so forth. The origin of our Thüringen is -held to be different from that of the German province, which has been -derived from Turo, a family name; to be Celtic, and allied to Tours and -Zürich (which is also marked as Türrig in old maps); to this day our -people invariably call the place “z’Türrig.” Schlins is the birthplace -of a remarkable man, Magister Bartholomæus Bernhardt, born 1487. He was -called Velcurio from the neighboring town of Feldkirch, studied (1504) -at the new University of Wittenberg which within twenty years had -received over forty students from Vorarlberg; became a monk and (1519) -rector of that University; thereafter to the end of his life Prior of -Kemberg in Saxony. According to Sebastian Münster (1550) he was the -first priest to take to himself a legitimate wife. He died 1551. His -brother John, who seems to have been also a monk, wrote a commentary on -Aristotle’s “Physics” and was likewise married. - -[28] This reads a little jaundiced. I must contemplate my oleographs. - -[29] They do not exist in this _Adneter Kalk_. We noticed some fair -specimens the other day at the Freiburger Hut (Formarin). - -[30] This tusk has been in the Bregenz Museum since 1859, with a -suitable inscription. A molar, presumably of the same animal, was found -by a peasant in this torrent some twenty years ago; it is now at Invery -House, Banchory, N. B. - -[31] “Mounts up to 7000 feet, and probably descends not much below -3000,” says Schreiber, in his _Herpetologia Europea_. Bludenz lies at -half the latter elevation. Brehm draws the word Tattermandl from “toter -Mann,” which is a philologer’s derivation; he is anything but “tot.” It -might be a corruption by popular etymology, of the Latin and Italian -name. Bruhin says that _salamandra maculosa_ occurs at Thüringen. I -have traversed every inch of the Thüringen territory in all seasons and -weathers for the last half century, and never seen one. - -[32] Mattli was right. According to Bruhin’s “Wirbelthiere Vorarlbergs” -(1868) the last wolf was shot at the Hanging Stone about 1830, though -he does not mention this fact in his interesting paper on the fauna and -flora of this cliff. The last lynx, he says, was killed about 1820; a -certain Rüf, a well-known chamois hunter of the Bregenzerwald, told me -that when he was a youngster he frequently came across old Lynx-traps -in the woods. There are woodcuts both of lynx and wolf in Schlee’s -“Rhetia”; he speaks of them as being very troublesome in the Bludenz -district (p. 61). The wild boar, long since extinct, he mentions among -the game animals of Bregenz and Dornbirn. I myself found the tusk -of one during some drainage works in the fields between Bludenz and -Rungalin. Bruhin says that a bear was killed near Nenzing in 1828 and -that another one frequented an alp there for a whole summer season in -1867. Bears were passably common when Tschudi wrote his “Thierleben der -Alpenwelt”; Berlepsch (about 1860) says that twelve to twenty of them -were still annually killed in the Alps; soon enough, I shall be one -of the few persons left who have tasted the flesh of a genuine Alpine -bear. This was at Nauders in the Tyrol in May, 1897; the beast had -probably come over from the Grisons. - -[33] Since then, the same reason has been given me by two other -natives, both of whom are in a position to know. I call it -“interesting,” because observations of a recent change of climate--and -always in the direction of moisture--have been recorded in other parts -of Europe. In the Shetland Islands, for instance, they will point out -to you stretches of moor and heather once covered with grain which, -owing to increased dampness, could no longer be got to mature. The same -phenomenon has struck me also, but, on thinking it over, I attributed -it to my own imagination; hot summers, I said to myself, and clear -snowy winters, are far more likely to impress a child than rainy -weather; hence we conclude rashly that in the days of our youth the -climate was more continental. Yet how explain a state of affairs like -this: vines were cultivated here by the Romans (even during the Stone -Age, among the pile-dwellers on Lake Constance) and, assiduously, as -early as the eleventh century; in 1615, again, there were no less than -_one hundred vineyards at Bludesch alone_. The site of all of them is -now nothing but grassy slopes. Can hay be more remunerative than wine? -If not, there is perhaps something to be said for the change-of-climate -theory. They seem to have been gay people, by the way, in those -bibulous days. Many are the complaints of illicit dancing and -outrageous swearing, of “Versoffenheit und Tabakfressen”--drunkenness -and tobacco-chewing. - -[34] I have just gone through Quinet’s pages again. They are a thing -apart, in French travel-literature. Here is no affectation, no mockery, -no rhetoric, no complaints about this or that, no advice to the Greeks -as to how they should govern themselves; nothing but the impressions -of a blithe and sympathetic traveler. So he wanders through this -country which then possessed “not a single two-wheeled carriage” nor -domestic beasts of any kind; he gives us poignant sketches of its utter -desolation--the fire-blackened villages and their few, half-starved -inhabitants, the putrefying corpses, skeletons by the wayside, leagues -of burnt forest and olive-groves; together with a few brighter -descriptions of life in Arcadia, of those delightful Albanian children, -and of chance meetings with the great Kolokotroni and others. What -strikes me as distinctively non-French in Quinet is his whole-hearted -love of nature, and a certain organic nobility of outlook. One would -gladly quote from those stimulating reflections on the art of ancient -Greece, but as I am on the subject of homesickness, I will merely -transcribe what he says of Sparta (then a mere hovel) which has the -true nostalgic ring. “Je laisse à d’autres à expliquer comment une -ville qui ne vous est rien, bien moins, quelques tertres de cailloux -que vous ne reverrez jamais, peuvent vous manquer plus que votre terre -natale.” Quinet, it will be seen, wrote as citizen of the world, not -of France; and that is why his book is a thing apart. It ends with -a touching farewell to the whole country. “Ni demain, ni après, ne -verrai-je plus mes hôtes de Dhervény ou de Mistra, ni les forêts -brulées, ni les os sur la grève, ni tout ce que les hommes peuvent -souffrir pour une pensée, sans cesser de la mettre à haut prix ...” - -There once passed through my hands a copy of these travels marginally -annotated by some Greek reader in faded, yellow ink. One of his -observations ran to this effect: “Ce livre est tout ce qu’il doit être, -admirable de description et de vérité. Moi, Grec, je puis témoigner que -ce livre est plein de vérités et de charmes.” - -[35] Avoid the lake salmon. - -[36] They are buried at Bludesch--the last one in 1669--in that crypt -below the church which bears the awesome superscription: _Fui non sum. -Estis non critis._ They also built what is now the Krone inn at that -village, one of whose ceilings has taken refuge in the Bregenz Museum, -and whose present proprietor was a schoolfellow of mine at Som’s. - -[37] Frastanz is famous for its beer and for its battle, on Saturday, -20 April, 1499, between the Swiss and the Imperial troops, which seems -to have been the bloodiest ever fought in this province. There is a -pretty legend connected with it (_see_ Vonbun’s “Sagen Vorarlbergs,” -Innsbruck, 1858). - -[38] These “water-calves” are thin, wire-like worms of the family of -the Gordiidae; they pass through singular stages of development. We -used to be told blood-curdling tales of their effects on the human -stomach if accidentally swallowed with the water. - -[39] _G. asclepiadea_, which the Germans briefly call -“Schwalbenwurzblättriger Enzian.” Old Conrad Gesner knew it as -“poison-root,” not because it was poisonous in itself, but because -cattle were said to eat it in order to cure themselves of the stings of -poisonous animals. He learnt this piece of lore, as well as the plant’s -popular name, from the botanist Aretius (Benedikt Marti), and therefore -wished to call the flower “Aretia” in honor of him. Two hundred years -later Haller, the great countryman of Aretius, did give the name Aretia -to a certain genus of plants; and it was retained by Linné. - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOGETHER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/69546-0.zip b/old/69546-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f80a189..0000000 --- a/old/69546-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69546-h.zip b/old/69546-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 53f3ed5..0000000 --- a/old/69546-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69546-h/69546-h.htm b/old/69546-h/69546-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6b6ab58..0000000 --- a/old/69546-h/69546-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6483 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Together, by Norman Douglas. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.caption {font-weight:normal; font-size:85%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.chead {text-indent:0%;margin:2em auto;} - -.cspc {margin:1em auto;} - -.fint {text-align:center;text-indent:0%; -margin-top:2em;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.footnotes {border:dotted 3px gray;margin-top:5%;clear:both;} - -.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;} - -.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;} - -.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:100%;font-weight:normal;letter-spacing:.1em;} - - hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.letra {font-size:250%;float:left;margin-top:-1%;} - @media print, handheld - { .letra - {font-size:250%;padding:0%;} - } - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -@media print, handheld -{.pagenum - {display: none;} - } - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:2em auto;text-indent:0%;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Together, by Norman Douglas</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Together</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Norman Douglas</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 15, 2022 [eBook #69546]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Al Haines, Chuck Greif & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOGETHER ***</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt="" /></a> -</div> - -<h1>TOGETHER</h1> - -<p class="c">BY -NORMAN DOUGLAS</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<i>And he said unto me, Son of man,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>can these bones live? And I answered,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>O Lord God, thou knowest.</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="i7"><span class="smcap">Ezekiel</span> xxxvii. 3.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="c"> -NEW YORK<br /> -ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY<br /> -1923<br /> -<br /><br /> -Copyright, 1923, by<br /> -<span class="smcap">Robert M. McBride & Co.</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<i>Printed in the<br /> -United States of America</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Published, 1923<br /> -<br /><br /><br /> -TO<br /> -<br /> -ARCHIE <span class="smcap">and</span> ROBIN<br /> -<br /> -FROM THEIR FATHER<br /> -</p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a> </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_BRUNNENMACHER">The Brunnenmacher</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#TIEFIS">Tiefis</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_35">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#LUTZ_FOREST">Lutz Forest</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BLUMENEGG">Blumenegg</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#FATHER_BRUHIN">Father Bruhin</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#RAIN">Rain</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ANTS">Ants</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_121">121</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#GAMSBODEN">Gamsboden</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_141">141</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#JORDAN_CASTLE">Jordan Castle</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ROSENEGG">Rosenegg</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_177">177</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#VALDUNA">Valduna</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_193">193</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#OLD_ANNA">Old Anna</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#SCHLINS">Schlins</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_227">227</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#INDEX">247</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Introduction</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>T rains.</p> - -<p>It has rained ever since our arrival in this green Alpine village; -rained not heavily but with a grim Scotch persistence—the kind of -drizzle that will tempt some old Aberdonian, sitting unconcernedly in -soaking grass by the wayside, to look up and remark: “The roads is -something saft.” Are we going to have a month of <i>Landregen</i>, as they -call it? No matter. Anything for fresh air; anything to escape from the -pitiless blaze of the South, and from those stifling nights when your -bedroom grows into a furnace, its walls exuding inwardly all the fiery -beams they have sucked up during the endless hours of noon. Let it rain!</p> - -<p>Little I thought ever to become a guest in this tavern, familiar as it -is to me from olden days. They have made us extremely comfortable. -Nothing is amiss, nothing lacking. Our rooms are large and well -furnished. Certain preliminary operations were of course necessary in -regard to the beds. Away first of all with the <i>Keilpolster</i>, that -wedge-shaped horror; away next with the <i>Plumeau</i>, another invention of -the devil. And breakfast always up here<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span> please, for both of us, in my -room, at half-past seven; seeing that work begins at eight sharp. Not -less than a litre of milk for my friend, and two eggs; he is a -milk-and-egg maniac. I am past his stage, though still young enough to -revel in that delicious raspberry jelly. Why is it almost unknown in -England?</p> - -<p>On one side of my room hangs an oleograph which depicts a gay sportsman -aiming at some chamois from behind a tree at twenty-five yards’ -distance; such luck never came my way. The picture on the further side -is still more suggestive—three roe-deer, hotly pursued by a dachshund; -a pug-dog would have an equal chance of success. Cheerful pictures of -this kind should hang in every room. I shall look at them whenever I -feel jaundiced. Our tavern by the way is famous for its dachshunds. They -have a couple of thoroughbreds, with faces like orchids, who eat and -sleep most of the day and whose descendants are rapidly stocking the -neighborhood. Their numerous progeny drop in for a visit from the -remotest villages, and are coldly received by the parents. Just now the -gentleman is asleep and his spouse, not for the first time, indulging in -an agitated flirtation with one of her own remote descendants who has -not yet found a home for himself: a very bad example to the rest of -us....</p> - -<p>Through the silvery curtain of drizzle I glance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span> eastwards and recognize -the old, old view, the earliest that ever greeted my eyes; for our -nursery windows, up yonder, looked also towards the rising sun, and -once, not in the day but late at night, I was lifted out of bed and -placed on the window-sill to behold a wondrous thing—the sky all -a-glister with livid rays. This aurora borealis is my first memory of -life and the apparition must have been recorded in the newspapers of the -day, since it was the only “Nordlicht” ever seen, to my knowledge, in -the country; the vexed question, therefore, of a man’s earliest memory -could be settled, so far as I am concerned, if one had the energy to -hunt up the files. There, confronting me on its hillock, stands the -church with red-topped steeple. During the war, the authorities carried -off the four bells to be melted down; three new ones have since been -purchased at Innsbruck. They chime pleasantly enough, but not quite the -same as of yore. One would like to hear the old ones again, for memory’s -sake, after all these years. How gayly they used to tremble on the air -at midday, while one roamed about the hills at the back of the house. -And how one rushed down to be in time for luncheon, seated on a -fir-branch; an excellent method of progression on steep, slippery -meadows, provided there be no stones or wasps’ nests on the track. One -day, long ago, we three slid in this fashion and at a breathless speed -down the never-ending slopes of the Furkla<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span> alp above Bludenz. Nothing -happened till about half-way, when the eldest felt a jolt, a slight -cavity in the ground, and called out to me to beware. It was too late; I -was pitched in and out again. My sister who followed, carrying less -weight, came to rest there. The cavity was a wasps’ nest. Eight -stings....</p> - -<p>And the church is backed by a mountain called Hoher Frassen; even at -this distance one can detect a belt of green stretching across its -middle near the scattered houses of Ludescherberg; wonderful, what -manure will do! Everybody goes up the Hoher Frassen (<i>vulgo</i> -Pfannenknecht) on account of the view, which is remarkable considering -its low elevation of not even two thousand meters, though personally, if -one must climb places like this, I should prefer the Mondspitze or -Hochgerach. You can ascend in early morning from Bludenz or anywhere -else, catch a glimpse of the Rhine and Lake Constance and snow peaks -innumerable—of half this small province of Vorarlberg, in fact—and be -home again in time for a late luncheon. Near the top is the now -inevitable hut for the convenience of fat tourists. Cows pasture about -the summit among the Alpine roses and dwarf pines.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Here, at the -right<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span> season, you may capture as many Apollo butterflies as you please. -A little boy and girl, scrambling homeward one day from this summit, -dislodged with infinite trouble a huge bowlder and, while somebody was -not looking, sent it on a career of delirious leaps down the incline -above Raggal village. Such was its momentum after a couple of hundred -yards that it went clean through a hay-hut, empty but solid, tossing its -wooden blocks into the air as if they were feathers. The destruction of -some poor peasant’s property was considered a great joke. We laughed -over it for weeks and weeks.</p> - -<p>On the other side of our valley one can discern, despite the rain, those -peaks of the Rhætikon group. They have been powdered with freshly fallen -snow almost down to the Kloster alp, where cows are grazing at this -moment. The Kloster alp, on which I have passed many nights with no -companion save a rifle, is forever memorable in my annals as being the -spot where, at the age of six, I smoked my first cigar. We were on an -excursion and somebody—the little Dr. Zimmermann, I daresay, the blithe -veterinary surgeon—gave me, doubtless at my repeated and urgent -solicitation, a long black Virginia, a so-called rat’s tail, the -strongest weed manufac<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>tured by the Austrian Government. Delighted with -my luck, I puffed through an inch or so. Then, without any warning, -death and darkness compassed me about. Death and darkness! The world was -turned inside out; so was I. Not for several weeks did I try tobacco -again; this time only a cigarette and in a more appropriate locality; -even that made me rather unhappy. Here, on the cliffs just above the -Kloster alp, you used to be able to gather a bouquet of Edelweiss with -your eyes shut, so to speak; here, among the tumbled fragments of rock -further on, was a numerous colony of marmots. Never, in my -bloodthirstiest days, had I the heart to shoot one of these frolicsome -beasts, whose settlements are scattered over most of our mountains at -the proper elevation. They call them “Burmentli” in our dialect—a -pungent variety of alemannic—and their fat is supposed to cure every -ill that flesh is heir to; it is chiefly on account of this fat that -they have been persecuted in all parts of the Alps, and exterminated in -not a few. Their cheery whistle carries half a mile; if you sit -perfectly motionless, they will creep out of their burrows, one by one, -and frisk and gambol around you. Once, at Christmas, a hunter brought me -a hibernating marmot which he had taken, together with its whole family, -out of winter-quarters. I put it, drowsy but half-awake, into a cold -room, where it immediately rolled itself under a</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/img-008.jpg"> -<img src="images/img-008.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Marmot’s skull with malformed teeth</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">bundle of hay. There it slept, week after week. A marmot in this -condition is cold to the touch but not altogether stiff, and Professor -Mangili calculated long ago that during the whole of its six months’ -lethargy it respires only 71,000 times (awake, 72,000 times in two -days)—a veritable death-in-life! Mine displayed no resentment at being -aroused now and then in a warm room; indeed, it behaved with exemplary -meekness and allowed itself to be pinched or caressed or carried about; -but preferred sleeping, and always seemed to say, in the words of the -poet’s sluggard, “You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again.” -When summer came round, we took it back to its old home, where it -trotted off without a word of thanks, as if the past experiences in our -valley had been nothing but a silly dream.</p> - -<p>One would hardly think that marmots ever fed each other, yet a skull in -my collection makes me wonder how this particular animal, an old beast, -can have survived without receiving nourishment from its fellows. It was -shot near St. Gallenkirch in the Montavon valley on September 12th, -1886; and is remarkable since, in consequence of what looks like the -fracture of a single incisor tooth, the lower jaw has been partially and -slowly displaced, shifted to one side of the upper—at the cost, no -doubt, of incessant pain. What happened? All four incisors therewith -became not only useless but an intolerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span> hindrance; lacking the -necessary attrition, they grew ever longer in mammoth-like curves, and -sharply pointed; the shortest—the injured one, which is still deprived -of enamel at its extremity—measures six and a half centimeters in -length, the longest all but eight; and one of them, in the course of its -circular development, has actually begun to bore into the bone of the -upper jaw. I am not much of a draftsman, but these two sketches will -suffice to give some idea of the freak specimen. A squirrel with -somewhat similar dentition was described in the “Zoologist” (Vol. IX, p. -220). Here was one marmot, at least, who must have been glad when summer -food-problems were over, and it grew cold enough to scuttle downstairs -again for a six months’ rest. And some of them sleep in this fashion for -eight months on end. What a sleep! Why wake up at all?</p> - -<p>Food-problems of our own——</p> - -<p>They are non-existent. This region has suffered <i>relatively</i> little from -the effects of war; it is a self-supporting district of -peasant-proprietors where nearly every family possesses its own house -and orchard and fields and cattle; the ideal state of affairs. Nothing -is lacking, save tobacco and coffee. To obtain the first, one plagues -friends in England; instead of the second, we have to put up with cocoa, -a costive and slimy abomination which I, at least, will not be able to -endure much longer. Prolonged and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>fidential talks with the -innkeeper’s wife—his third one, a lively woman from the Tyrol, full of -fun and capability—have already laid down the broad lines of our bill -of fare. I must devour all the old local specialties, to begin with, -over and over again; items such as <i>Tiroler Knödel</i> and <i>Saueres Nierle</i> -and <i>Rahmschnitzel</i> (veal, the lovely Austrian veal, is scarce just now, -but she means to get it) and brook-trout <i>blau gesotten</i> and -<i>Hasenpfeffer</i> and fresh oxtongue with that delicious brown onion sauce, -and <i>gebaitzter Rehschlegel</i> (venison is cheap; three halfpence a pound, -at the present rate of exchange); and, first and foremost, -<i>Kaiserfleisch</i>, a dish which alone would repay the trouble of a journey -to this country from the other end of the world, were traveling fifty -times more vexatious than it is. Then: cucumber salad of the only -true—i. e., non-Anglo-Saxon—variety, sprinkled with <i>paprika</i>; no soup -without the traditional chives; beetroot with cummin-seed, and beans -with <i>Bohnenkraut</i> (whatever that may be); also things like <i>Kohlrabi</i> -and <i>Kässpätzle</i>—malodorous but succulent; above all, those ordinary, -those quite ordinary, <i>geröstete Kartoffeln</i> with onions, one of the few -methods by which the potato, the grossly overrated potato, that marvel -of insipidity, can be made palatable. How comes it that other nations -are unable to produce <i>geröstete Kartoffeln</i>? Is it a question of -<i>Schmalz</i>? If so, the sooner they learn<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> to make <i>Schmalz</i>, the better. -<i>Pommes lyonnaises</i> are a miserable imitation, a caricature.</p> - -<p>In the matter of sweets, we have arranged for <i>Schmarrn</i> with cranberry -compote, and pancakes worthy of the name—that is, without a grain of -flour in them, and <i>Apfelstrudel</i> and—quick! strawberries down from the -hills, several pounds of the aromatic mountain ones, to form those -wonderful open tarts which are brought in straight from the oven and -eaten then and there, hot—if you know what is good. Should the weather -grow sultry, I will also make a point of consuming a bowl of sour milk, -just for the sake of auld lang syne. It may well ruin my stomach, which -has acquired an alcoholic diathesis since those days.</p> - -<p>There! A change of food, at last.</p> - -<p>Whether Mr. R. will take to this diet is another matter. I should be in -despair if he were a true Frenchman, for your Gaul, in this and other -matters, is the most provincial creature in the world; like a peasant, -he can eat nothing save what his grandmother has taught him to think -eatable. Mr. R., luckily for him, is French only from political -necessity. And besides, persons of his age should never be encouraged to -express likes and dislikes in the matter of food; it is apt to make them -capricious or even greedy, and what says the learned Dr. Isaac Watts, -from whom I quoted a moment ago? “The appetite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span> of taste is the first -thing that gets the ascendant in our younger years, and a guard should -be set upon it early.” How true! Nobody is entitled to be captious until -he has reached the canonical age. After that, he has acquired the right -of being not only critical, but as gluttonous as ever he pleases.</p> - -<p>Here, meanwhile, are the latest statistics of our village. It contains -about seven hundred inhabitants, three hundred cows and calves (most of -them on the mountains just now), five taverns, and three <i>Dorftrottels</i> -or idiots, of the genuine Alpine breed. Mr. R. is dying to have a look -at them as soon as the weather clears; and so am I. There is a -fascination about real idiots. They have all the glamour of a -monkey-house, with an additional note of human pathos.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>A heated discussion after dinner with Mr. R.—one of our usual ones—as -to the right meaning of the English words “still” and “yet” which, like -“anybody” or “somebody,” he refuses to distinguish from each other. On -such occasions, he complains of the needless ambiguity and prolixity of -my language; I retort by some civil remark about the deplorable poverty -of his own. I should explain that I hold<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span> certificates as teacher of -French and English, and am in possession of an infallible coaching -method (a family secret) for backward or forward pupils; and that this -is not the first time I have endeavored to instill a little knowledge of -English into the head of Mr. R. who, for all his faults, is a -companionable young fellow with certain brigand-strains in his ancestry -that go well with those in mine (<i>vide</i> Peter Hinedo’s “Genealogy of the -most Ancient and most Noble Family of the Brigantes, or Douglas,” -London, 1754).</p> - -<p>That astonishing French education.... What is one to do with people, -future candidates for government posts, who cannot tell the difference -between an adverb and a conjunction, who, if you ask them to define a -reflexive verb, gaze at you with an air of injured innocence, almost as -if you had asked them to say what is the capital of China, the position -of their own colony of Obok, and whether Chili belongs to Germany or to -Austria? They learn none of these things at school; or if they do, it is -in some infant class where they are forgotten again, promptly and -forever. Instead of this, they are crammed with microscopic details, -under the name of “Littérature,” concerning the lives of all French -writers that ever breathed the air of Heaven, and with a bewildering -mass of worthless physical formulæ, enough to daze the brain of a Gauss. -What Mr. R.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span> does not know about convex lenses and declination needles -and such-like balderdash is not worth knowing; his acquaintance with -every aspect of Molière’s life and works is devastating in its -completeness, and makes me feel positively uncomfortable. Now Molière -was doubtless a fine fellow, but no youngster has any right to know so -much about him. I only wish they had taught him a few elements of -grammar instead.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> - -<p>It is too late now. He laughs at grammar—a frank, derisory laugh. In -other words, my task is rendered none the easier by his serene -self-confidence. He does not share my view that his English is still -rudimentary, though he admits that it may require “a little polish here -and there.” Everything in the nature of a difficulty or exception to the -rules is an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span> <i>idiom</i>—not worth bothering about. He conjugates our few -irregular verbs as if they were regular; go, go’ed, go’ed; find, finded, -finded; and gets in a towering passion, not with me but with the -language, whenever I have to set him right. Their mellow auxiliaries of -“should” and “can” and all the rest of them, so useful, so reputable, so -characteristic of the versatile genius of England, are treated as a -perennial joke; indeed, it is a wretched idiosyncrasy of his to discover -fun in the most abstruse and recondite material. (He nearly died of -laughing the other day, because I told him that the Neanderthal race of -man was less hairy than the <i>Pithecanthropus erectus</i> of Java; and -failed to explain why such a bald scientific statement of fact should -provoke even a smile.) Simple phrases like “Est-ce que l’enfant n’aurait -pas dû acheter le chapeau?” give birth to English renderings that would -send any less patient tutor into convulsions; renderings such as you -might expect from the average Englishman when asked to put into French -“If I had not noticed it, you would not have noticed it either (using -<i>s’en apercevoir</i>).”</p> - -<p>To all my suggestions that it might be well to study this or that more -conscientiously, I receive the stereotyped reply “I know my <i>vocables</i>”; -as if the possession of an English vocabulary were synonymous with the -possession of English speech. It is perfectly true; he has a fair stock -of words, and nobody<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span> would believe what can be done with our language -until he hears it handled by a person who knows his <i>vocables</i> (and -nothing else) after the manner of my pupil; I often tell him that he -could make his fortune in England, on the music-hall stage, with that -outfit alone. Nevertheless, strange to say, he was nearly always the -first in his English class at school. Vainly one conjectures what may -have been the attainments of the rest of them or, for that matter, of -their teachers.</p> - -<p>So he studies two hours a day with me and two hours alone, preparing for -an examination in October; and that is his <i>raison d’être</i> in this -country. He has just given me, to correct, a translation from a book -full of “thèmes et versions,” all of which are too difficult for him; -this one is his English rendering of a stiff piece that describes P. L. -Courier’s disgust at the French Court. It is a noteworthy specimen of my -pupil’s command of <i>vocables</i> and of nothing else; a document which I -should not hesitate to set down here, in full, could I persuade anybody -into the belief that it was authentic. That is out of the question. -People would say I had wasted a good week of my life, trying to -manufacture something comical.</p> - -<p>Instead of this “anglais au baccalauréat” we have lately begun a course -of Grimm’s Fairy Tales which are nearer to his level, and I am realizing -once more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> what this stuff, so-called folk-lore, is worth. A desert! For -downright intellectual nothingness, for misery of invention and -tawdriness of thought, a round half dozen of these tales are not to be -surpassed on earth. They mark the lowest ebb of literature; even the -brothers Grimm, Germans though they were, must have suffered a spasm or -two before allowing them to be printed. Fortunately Mr. R.’s versions of -this drivel are far, far superior to the original; they beat it on its -own ground of sheer inanity; and I am carefully collecting them to be -made up, at some future period, into an attractive little volume for the -linguistic amateur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="THE_BRUNNENMACHER" id="THE_BRUNNENMACHER"></a>THE BRUNNENMACHER</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>The Brunnenmacher</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">N</span>OW what may that old <i>Brunnenmacher</i> have looked like? I never saw him. -I only know that, like my friend his son, he was the official -water-expert of the town of Bludenz, that he was older than my father, -and every bit as incurable a <i>Bergfex</i>—mountain-maniac. His nick-name, -“Bühel-Toni,” suffices to prove this. Those two were always doing -impossible things up there at the risk of their lives (it was thus, -indeed, that my father was killed) either together, or alone, secretly, -in emulation of each other. For in those days the whole of this province -was virgin soil, so far as climbing was concerned, and numberless are -the peaks they are supposed to have scaled for the first time. Yet -neither of them, it seems, had ever tackled the Zimba, the noblest of -those pinnacles of the Rhætikon group which I can see from this window, -out there, on the other side of the valley, covered with fresh snow -wherever snow can come to lie among its crags. The Zimba rises to a -height of 2640 meters and was regarded as inaccessible by local chamois -hunters who, for the rest, were under no obligation to scramble<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span> up -places of this kind, their game being abundant lower down. Inaccessible! -That annoyed these two <i>Bergfexes</i> all the more.</p> - -<p>“Are you never going to try?” my father would ask.</p> - -<p>Said the Brunnenmacher:</p> - -<p>“I am an old man, and have at least three times as many children -dependent on me as you have. That makes a difference. Besides, you are -rich. Rich people can afford to break their necks. Aren’t you ashamed of -yourself? There it is, staring you in the face all day long. I could -never resist the temptation, if I were in your place. Only think: it -would be quite an unusual kind of honor for you, an Englishman, to have -been the first up there. In fact, I confess I should feel a little -jealous and sore about it, myself.”</p> - -<p>So it went on for months or years, and each time they met, the -Brunnenmacher would say:</p> - -<p>“So-and-so now thinks of trying the Zimba. Are you going to let him have -it his own way? Is he to get all the glory? Now’s your chance,” or else: -“How about the Zimba? Still afraid? What a scandal. Ah, if I were only a -few years younger!”</p> - -<p>At last my father could bear it no longer and slunk out of the house one -afternoon on his usual pretext—when anything risky had to be done—of -going after chamois. He rolled himself in his blanket at<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span> the Sarotla -alp, near the foot of the peak, and next day, somehow or other, set foot -on the virgin summit. Imagine his disgust on finding there a -<i>Steinmandl</i>, a cairn, containing a bottle with an affectionate letter -to himself from “Bühel-Toni” who had sneaked up ages ago, all by -himself, without saying a word to any one.</p> - -<p>That is the history of the Zimba, which is now climbed by numerous -tourists every year. No wonder; since all the difficult places have been -made easy. Even so, the mountain has claimed its victims—three, within -the last few years; one of them a tough old gentleman who, to test his -nerve and muscle, insisted on “doing” the Zimba once a year. It was a -sporting notion; the Zimba did him, in the end; he lies buried in the -new Protestant cemetery at Bludenz. And if you like to scramble up from -the Rellsthal flank, you may still have some fun. Not long ago a tourist -actually died of fright while climbing down here. He had gone up by the -ordinary route to the satisfaction of his guide who, being from the -Montavon valley and anxious to get home as soon as possible (this is my -own assumption) took him down by this almost perpendicular “short cut.” -At a certain point the tourist declared that he could go neither -forwards nor backwards, and was going to die then and there. Which he -straightway proceeded to do, rather foolishly. But there are no<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span> limits -to what a real tourist can accomplish. Along the extremely convenient -track which scales the cliff between the Zalim alp and the Strassburger -hut (Scesaplana district) two young men contrived to slip; they were -shattered to fragments. Cleverest of all was the gentleman who lately -achieved the distinction of dying from exposure on the Hoher Frassen. He -ought to have left us word to say how the thing was done.</p> - -<p>We do not always realize the difficulties of the pioneers. Among other -matters, there were no shelter huts in those days. That which lies below -the Zimba, on the Sarotla alp, is one of some fifty now scattered about -the hills of this small province. The earliest of them all was the -Lünersee hut which bears the name of my father; he was then president of -our local section of the Alpine Club. Built for the convenience of -visitors to the Scesaplana summit, this hut was swept into the lake long -ago, with all it contained, by an avalanche. It is time another -avalanche came along, for the place has grown into a caravanserai of the -rowdiest description. Altogether, selfish as it may sound, I should not -be sorry to see every one of these structures burnt to the ground, or -otherwise obliterated. Their primary object, to afford shelter to <i>bona -fide</i> climbers, is laudable; what they actually do, is to serve as -hotels—not bad ones, either—to a crowd of summer visitors<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span> whose faces -and clothes and manners are an outrage on the surroundings. Abolish the -huts, or cut down their comforts and menus to what a climber might -reasonably expect, and the objectionable “Hüttenwanzen” would evaporate. -What are they doing among these mountains? Let them guzzle and perspire -in Switzerland!...</p> - -<p>My friend the younger Brunnenmacher, son of “Bühel-Toni,” was also -official water-specialist and <i>Bergfex</i>; he may well have been the image -of his father since, from all I have heard, he had the same character -and therefore, according to a theory of my own, must have resembled him -also in person. If that be so, we may take it for granted that the -father was an unusually hirsute creature. The mere sight of his son, at -the Bludenz swimming baths, used to send us into fits. Nobody had ever -seen such a “Waldmensch.” He might have been a gorilla in this -respect—an uncommon kind of gorilla; for not every gorilla, I fancy, -can afford to wear a regular parting down its back. No gorilla, either, -could climb in better style; or smile, if they smile at all, to better -purpose. The Brunnenmacher’s laughing face charmed away hunger and -fatigue and wet clothes and all the ills of mountaineering. It may seem -far-fetched to apply the terms “ingenuous” or “childlike” to the smile -of a bearded monster of forty, but there are no other epithets available -for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span> that of the Brunnenmacher. It rose to his lips, on seeing you; it -hovered there day and night, waiting for your appearance. Doubtless he -had a peculiar affection for me, as being my father’s son; everybody -found him a lovable person.</p> - -<p>His weather-proof good humor must have helped to establish his -reputation as a guide; that, and his jovial blasphemies. They made you -laugh, and a guide who makes you laugh has already gone a long way -towards gaining your friendship. Once you persuaded the Brunnenmacher to -begin some story of his, which was not difficult, you were sure to get -an adequate amount of playful bad language thrown in. An infallible -method of getting more than this adequate amount was to make him relate -his experiences of a trip to America, and of the agonies of four days’ -sea-sickness on an empty stomach. This narrative bristled with swear -words; it ended in a fixed formula: “Jo, -Himmelherrgottsakraméntnochemol, do honni grod gmeint i müest ussm -grosse Zähe uffi kotze!” which might as well be left untranslated ...</p> - -<p>There is a curious cave near Bludenz called the <i>Bährenloch</i>, the bear’s -cavern; it lies at the foot of the cliffs above the road to Rungalin -village—not the field path, but that which skirts the hills. I say -curious, because it is plainly not a natural cave; it is an artificial -one and has been hacked by human hands out of the limestone; when, by -whom, and for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span> what purpose, no one knows. The chisel-marks are quite -plain, once you are well inside. It is roughly quadrangular in shape and -about the height of a man at the entrance; half way through, it takes a -slight bend to the right and, growing narrower and narrower till you can -hardly turn round, ends abruptly, as though the builder had grown weary -of his toil, or disappointed with its result. The work of a mediæval -anchorite? I doubt it. Such a person would have contented himself with a -domicile less than half its length. Perhaps some crazy enthusiast dug it -long ago, in the hope of discovering gold or what not among the bowels -of those cliffs.</p> - -<p>The younger Brunnenmacher first took me there, and how he managed to hit -upon the precise locality of this grotto remains a mystery to me. Not -only was the steep woodland below much thicker in those days—almost -impenetrable, in fact—and without any trace of an upward path, but the -entire base of the cliffs was defended by so dense a mass of brushwood -that we had to crawl through it on hands and knees. How did he contrive -to ascend undeviatingly to the cavern’s mouth? A few yards astray, and -we should have been lost in that jungle where one could barely move, and -had no means of seeing to right or left. All this sounds incredible at -present. Most of the brushwood has been uprooted and the forest thinned -out to such an extent that it has become quite trans<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span>parent; moreover, -that meritorious “beautification-society” of Bludenz constructed, among -many other things, a convenient zigzag path which will lead you after -fourteen windings to the very entrance of the <i>Bährenloch</i>. The -horse-shoe bats, the greater and the lesser, which I used to capture -here and take home as pets, may well have deserted the place; likewise -the young foxes and badgers we unearthed in the neighborhood. One of -these badgers grew so tame that he followed me about everywhere, and -would even take me for rides on his back. I should like to see him do it -nowadays.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> - -<p>This Brunnenmacher seems to have made up his mind that I was to become a -climber like himself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span> He took me in hand. He made me trot miles and -miles, as it seemed, up the then almost trackless Galgen-tobel and -showed me the <i>fons et origo</i> of the Bludenz water supply, as well as a -spot where you could discover a certain vitriolic mineral by the simple -process of applying your tongue to the rock; and still further afield, -into the upper regions of the Krupsertobel, and down its savage bed. -Then came the turn of the mountains—Scesaplana, to begin with. As -guide, he had already gone up there some seventy times, and even I got -to know it so well in later years that I could have walked up in -blackest midnight. Next the Sulzfluh, famous as a haunt of the -Lämmergeier; and so on. One of the last of these trips was up the -Säntis, the shapely peak across the Swiss frontier, which seems to close -up our valley to the west. We came back with our pockets full of -rock-crystals.</p> - -<p>So I pursue the memories, as they rise from the past, of those old days -of the Brunnenmacher. He died a good many years back. But he has left -behind a sturdy brood of children—I know not how many; dozens of them, -let us hope, to inherit his smile....</p> - -<p>That Säntis mountain, which I have just mentioned, has a bad name at -this moment. There was a foul murder done here, some months ago; the -married couple in charge of the observatory near the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span> summit were found -killed at their post. Nobody could guess who the assassin was, nor what -his object might have been, till the body of a young man was discovered -in some hut not far away. He had committed suicide; and he was the -murderer. So far as I could gather, this youngster was of decent birth -but, owing to excesses of one kind or another, had lost all balance and -self-respect. One thing, nevertheless, he preserved intact: an intense -love of the Säntis, his native mountain, which he seems to have regarded -as a sort of private domain. He knew its territory inch by inch and -could never bring himself to forsake it; this affection, indeed, was his -undoing, for after the crime he made no attempt to quit the country, as -he easily might have done. The all-absorbing attachment to this piece of -ground kept him chained there, and it was supposed, though nowise -proved, I fancy, that he killed the old people out of an insane envy, -and in the equally insane hope of being thereafter installed at the -observatory as their successor, and having the Säntis all to himself for -the rest of his life. Murders are committed for a considerable variety -of amorous motives, but seldom for one of such a glacially nonsexual and -idealistic tinge; it is the kind of etherealized horror that might be -imagined to take place on some other planet. Altogether, an interesting -problem in psychology, if the facts they gave me are cor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span>rect. To fall -in love with a mountain is not the common lot of man. And so -disastrously!</p> - -<p>It was a tragedy of unreciprocated passion, from beginning to end. The -Säntis is no longer in the first flush of youth; it can be trusted, I -feel sure, to behave with perfect decorum under the most trying and -delicate circumstances. Its reputation, previous to this little affair, -had been of the best; nor is there any reason to suppose that it gave -its brain-sick admirer the slightest encouragement to act as he did, or -to think himself singled out for favors denied to the rest of us. The -locality is doubtless attractive, as such places go, but that is not its -own fault—who ever heard of blame attaching to beauty?—so attractive, -that a man might well be pardoned for growing fond of it, and fonder, -and fonder. Even in the case of superlative fondness, I, at least, would -still try not to feel jealous of other people’s familiarity with its -charms, and would certainly think twice before murdering a respectable -married couple <i>pour ses beaux yeux</i>.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>I have now seen four generations of these delightful folk who own our -tavern, the latest arrival being a great-grandchild of the first. Though -barely born,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span> it already wears a laughable resemblance to its -grandfather.</p> - -<p>He is the present head of the family, a village magnate who knows the -ins and outs of the countryside as well as any one alive; a Nimrod in -his day, and the only marksman, beside my father, to whom they hung up a -diploma of honor in the Ludesch shooting range; he has lived for years -in Milan and traveled, officially, to Vienna, to set forth to the -Government some claim of our district. The face might be that of one of -those good-natured but intelligent Roman emperors like Titus, with round -head and ruddy hair; a face such as you find all over the Roman province -to this day, and all over this province as well. His family came -originally from the Bregenzerwald region, at the back of our hills, and -is connected with that of Angelika Kauffmann who was born there.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> - -<p>Having been friends with him for the last half century, we never lack -subjects of conversation; there is fresh ground to explore as often as -we meet, and old ground to traverse again. What I now want to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span> is -this: how about the rain? Are we in for a <i>Landregen</i>? He thinks not; -the weather is too cold, and snow lies too low; where his own cattle -are, on the alp of Zürs near Lech, it must be lying at this moment. -Unless the weather clears, he will have to go up and look after them; -also on account of the foot-and-mouth disease, which has broken out in -the neighborhood. Lech: who has the chamois shooting there? Nearly all -the shoots in the country, he explains, have been taken by Swiss, and no -wonder; look at their exchange! And what of the projected <i>Anschluss</i> -(annexation) to Switzerland? Well, Germany would be better, on the -whole. Besides, the truth of the matter is (laughing) the Swiss won’t -have us; they say we are too Catholic and too lazy and too fond of -drinking. As if our people could afford to pay for wine nowadays! By the -way, just try this <i>Schnapps</i>, as a curiosity.</p> - -<p>It was juniper-spirit, of the year 1882. With all respect for its -antiquity, I found myself unable to appreciate the stuff. Then he gave -me, as an antidote, some of his own <i>Obstler</i> (made of apples) only -three weeks old. A little crude, but of good promise. So we went through -the lot. His own <i>Zwetschgenwasser</i>—excellent! Then Kirsch, from the -neighboring village of Tiefis, which makes a specialty of this -<i>Schnapps</i>, distilled from the small mountain cherries; of mighty -pleasant flavor. Next, Enzian;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span> the product of the yellow Alpine -gentian. Whoever likes Enzian—and who can help liking it?—will have -nothing to say against that of our Silberthal, which has a well-deserved -reputation for this brand. <i>Beerler</i>, I enquire? No, he says; nobody -makes bilberry-spirit any more.</p> - -<p>“Which is a pity.”</p> - -<p>“This infernal war——”</p> - -<p>“It has shattered all the refinements of life.”</p> - -<p>So we discuss the world, and presently the proprietress comes up to -announce that she has discovered coffee. I thought she would! She sent -to Bludenz for it, on the sly. Now what, I ask, is her particular method -of roasting?</p> - -<p>“Why, in the oven, of course; and very carefully. Then, when the beans -begin to sweat, and are neither lighter nor darker than a capuchin’s -frock, I take them out and place them, steaming hot, into a glass jar -and cover them at once with a thick layer of powdered sugar. There they -get cold slowly and are obliged, you see, to draw in again all the -fragrance which they would otherwise have lost. Isn’t that your English -way?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></p><p>I wish it were....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="TIEFIS" id="TIEFIS"></a>TIEFIS</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Tiefis</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span> REALLY fine morning at last; glorious sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Now for those idiots,” says Mr. R., and so do I. We have found out -about them, from the inn-people.</p> - -<p>It appears that two, a man and a woman, come from the Walserthal, which -has always been famous for its crop of imbeciles; the third was born at -Raggal, likewise fertile mother of idiots, because everybody marries -into his own family there. These Raggalers are such passionate -agriculturalists and so busy, all the year round, with their fields and -cattle, that they refuse to waste time scouring the province for so -trivial an object as a wife with fresh blood, when you can get a -colorable substitute at home. Our particular idiots live, all three of -them, on the road to St. Anne church, in that workhouse which, so far as -I know, has sheltered from time immemorial the poor of the district, the -aged, the infirm of mind or body. There is always a fine assortment of -wrecks on view here. Sisters of Charity look after them.</p> - -<p>Sure enough, the first thing we saw was one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span> the man-idiots hacking -wood out of doors. He was of the deaf and dumb variety, with misshapen -skull; he took no notice of us, but continued at his task with curious -deliberation, as if each stroke of the ax necessitated the profoundest -thought. Weak in the head, obviously; but not what I call an idiot. If -he could have spoken, he would doubtless have uttered as many witticisms -as one hears in an English public-house at closing time. The woman was -also there, sitting on the bench beside a Sister of Charity. -Under-sized, stupid-looking, with mouth agape; nothing more; I have seen -society ladies not unlike her in appearance. She can sew and knit -stockings and even talk, they had told us. Mediocre specimens, both of -them. And how about the third one, we enquired? He was working in the -fields, said the Sister.</p> - -<p>Working in the fields....</p> - -<p>These things call themselves idiots. Even idiots, it seems, have -degenerated nowadays. Mr. R. was dreadfully disappointed; and so was I. -He vowed I had led him to expect something on quite another scale; and -so I had. He extracted a promise, then and there, that I should show him -over Valduna, the provincial lunatic asylum near Rankweil, in the hope -of unearthing a few idiots worthy of the name.</p> - -<p>Now of course you cannot have everything in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span> world. You cannot ask, -in a district otherwise so richly endowed by Nature as this one, for the -<i>fine fleur</i> of imbecility—for <i>crétins</i>. To see these marvels you must -go further afield, to places like the Valtellina or Val d’Aosta (and -even there, I understand, the race is losing some of its best -characteristics. These doctors!) But one might at least have kept alive -a specimen or two of the old school, just for memory’s sake; idiots such -as my sister and myself used to see, while rambling as children about -these streets with the <i>Alte Anna</i>, our nurse. On that very bench, where -the modish lady was reclining to-day, or its predecessor, there used to -sit two skinny old madwomen side by side, with their backs to the wall. -There they sat, always in the same place. They were as mad as could be, -and older than the hills. A terrifying spectacle—these two blank -creatures, staring into vacuity out of pale blue eyes, with white hair -tumbled all about their shoulders. One of them disappeared—died, no -doubt; the survivor went on sitting and staring, in her old place. There -was another idiot whom we liked far better; in fact we loved him. He was -of the joyful and jabbering kind, and he lived near the factory. His -facial contortions used to make us shriek with laughter. Sometimes he -dribbled at the mouth. When he dribbled copiously, which was not every -day, it was our crowning joy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></p> - -<p>The old Anna, of course, knew by heart every idiot within miles of our -home. She specialized in such phenomena. What she liked even better was -anything in the nature of an accident, operation, horrible disease, or -childbirth; she knew of it, by some dark instinct, the moment it -occurred: she knew! and, being forbidden to leave the children alone, -dragged us with her into the remotest peasant-houses and hamlets to -enjoy the sight. Above all things, she had a mania for corpses and the -flair of a hyena for discovering their whereabouts. As often as there -was a corpse within walking distance, she donned her seven-league boots -and rushed towards it in the bee-line, carrying my sister, to save time, -while I toddled painfully after. Arrived at the spot where the dead body -lay, she would first cross herself and then begin to gloat. We did the -same. Who knows how many maladies, how many corpses, we inspected at -that tender age! A sound education. For it familiarized us with death -and suffering at a life-period when one cannot yet grasp their full -import; it took away, for good and all, a great part of their terrors. -We were never shocked by such things; only interested—hugely -interested....</p> - -<p>After an appetizing luncheon which atoned for the bitter disappointment -of this morning, we strolled upwards in the sunshine, slowly and -comfortably, towards the village of Tiefis. The ancient <i>Dorfberg</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span> road -which started opposite the sawmill to climb the height now lies -obliterated and forgotten; it was so steep that coachmen and all the -rest of us—save one or other of those awesome Scotch grand-aunts, -fragile and frowsy—had to get out of the carriage and walk. Here, on -the upper level, stood certain immense walnut trees of ours, in whose -shade I used to crawl about before I could walk. They are gone. But the -distant iron target against the hill-side behind them, which served my -father for rifle-practice, is in its old place; they have not troubled -to pull it down. I glance into the back regions of our old house; no -great change here; some of the present proprietor’s children are bathing -in that fountain which used to be covered with water-lilies. Then, a -couple of hundred yards further on, the ochre-tinted bed of that -wonderful stream which petrified leaves and grasses, a ceaseless marvel -of childhood. There it is as of old, trickling downhill in the same -miniature cascade. Up again, to the next level and beyond, where the -forest begins and where, looking back, you have a fine view upon the -Zimba.</p> - -<p>Now these are the things for which I have come here; things for which -you will vainly ransack England and the whole Mediterranean basin. You -are confronted, all of a sudden, by a dusky precipice, a wall of ancient -firs, glittering in the sun; their branches droop earthward in -curtain-like fringes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span> Here the path enters the forest—an inspiring -portal! To step from those bright meadows into the solemn and friendly -twilight of the trees is like stepping into a vast green cavern, into -another world; involuntarily one lowers one’s voice. I shall be much -surprised if these benign woodlands do not have a chastening influence -upon the character and the whole worldly outlook of Mr. R., to whom this -country and its people and language and customs are so utterly strange -that he has not yet recovered from his first bewilderment; they are what -he needs—what all of us need; one should return to them again and -again, to breathe a cleaner air, to rectify one’s perspective, to escape -from the herd and the contamination of its unsteady brain.</p> - -<p>There is a short break in the wood soon afterwards, a steep grassy slope -with a hay-hut at its foot. The place is called <i>Hirsch-sprung</i>, because -in olden days a hunted stag took the whole descent at a single leap. Any -one who has seen stags pursued by a hound will admit that they are -remarkable jumpers. They seldom get as good a chance as this, of showing -what they can do. The distance aerially traversed must be about eighty -yards.</p> - -<p>Tiefis is a new and prosperous village; the old one was burnt down in -the sixties. We went to my old inn where we discovered, among other -things, a pretty fair-haired child, daughter of the pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span>prietress; she -has the clearest complexion imaginable and the sweetest smile, and her -eyes are not blue, but of a mysterious golden-gray; the very picture of -innocence, and just the kind of person to trouble desperately Mr. R., -who is of the other color and at an inflammable age, though far more -decent-minded than I used to be. The charm is fleeting; she will lose -some of her looks; already I detect an ever so slight thickening of her -throat. Goitrous throats are none too rare hereabouts and nobody seems -to mind them, but Mr. R. knows nothing about such things as yet. At my -invitation she came and sat down beside him, which disconcerted both of -them at first, while I discussed the price of wine and other commodities -with the mother, whose nervous twitch in one eye must not be mistaken -for a wink. Where would it end, I enquired? Did innkeepers like herself -still stock the better qualities of white, the Nieder-oesterreicher and -so-called Terlaner, or red kinds like Veltliner and Kalterer See and -Magdalener? Would not people, at this rate, soon give up drinking wine -altogether? They were giving it up fast, she said. No peasant cared to -pay 1500 kronen for a quarter of a liter. Only last week it was 800; in -another fortnight it might be 2500 (it is now 4000). And so forth.</p> - -<p>“I think it would be polite to shake hands with the little baby,” said -Mr. R., as we rose to depart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></p> - -<p>“The little baby? I see. Go ahead. She won’t bite.”</p> - -<p>“Of course not. But one ought to say something. What is the German for -<i>au revoir</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Say nothing to-day. Keep that for next time. Look straight into her -face and smile; put your soul into it.”</p> - -<p>“I was going to do that anyhow.”</p> - -<p>Down again, by that pleasant road which connects the villages of Tiefis -and Bludesch. At the foot of the hill we abandoned it and turned to the -left, eastwards, up a swampy dell which, I knew, would bring us back -once more to the Stag’s Leap—a winding, narrow vale encompassed by -woodlands and drenched, just then, in a magical light from the sunset at -our back. It is called the “Eulenloch” (owl’s den), and a streamlet runs -down its center; the only streamlet in the district which contains -crayfish and therefore used to supply us, in former days, with <i>potage -bisque</i>. We captured one of these crustaceans; the brook is hereafter to -be known as “ruisseau des écrevisses” (its real name is “Riedbach,” from -the rushes through which it flows). They dig peat here, as in many of -these upland bogs, and the rank vegetation with its pungent odors, sweet -and savage, has not yet been mowed down—a maze of tall blue gentians -and mint and mare’s-tail, and flame-like pyramids of ruby color, and -meadowsweet, and the two<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span> yellows, the lusty and the frail, all tenderly -confused among the mauve mist of flowering reeds. I am glad I have -arrived in time to enjoy such sights; these wood-engirdled marshes have -a fascination of their own. How good it is to be at home again, -simmering and bubbling with contentment as you recognize the old things -in their old places!</p> - -<p>On the right flank of this owl’s den there used to be a bare patch -famous for its strawberries. It is now afforested and the strawberries -are gone; they have strawed—strayed—elsewhere; they follow the -clearings. But that hay-hut remains, that hut of the early school, built -of massive timbers between which the hay comes leaking out; the roof is -green with antique moss, and sulphur-hued lichen decks its beams. The -architecture of these huts has undergone a change, not for the better, -of late years; they are no longer squat and solid, but lanky, flimsy, -and almost ignoble of aspect, though the hay within is more securely -sheltered against damp by a covering of wooden boards. It is precisely -this covering which spoils their appearance....</p> - -<p>And here at last, below the Stag’s Leap, is the source of the <i>ruisseau -des écrevisses</i>. I knew what to expect. Those firs were cut down a good -while ago, and the rivulet now wells up amid a tangle of young deciduous -trees that have profited by their absence to settle down close to the -brink for a season.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span> You can hardly discover the spring for this -ephemeral luxuriance; it hides itself therein like a “nymphe pudique,” -as Mr. R. observed. The scene was otherwise in olden days, when hundreds -of mighty firs filled up all the vale. How otherwise! Then water rilled -forth among their roots, a liquid joy, in the gloom of multitudinous -over-arching boughs. Many are the hours I dreamt away as a lad, all -alone, at this richly romantic spot. The firs will doubtless come to -their rights again, and stifle in chill and darkness these sun-loving -intruders; they are already planted. Would I not wait, if I could, to -see the fountain as it used to be?</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>A short stroll late at night, down the main road towards Bludesch, in -order to enjoy the scent of the fields....</p> - -<p>I look up at my old home; it is brilliantly illuminated; three different -families, they say, are at present living there. I should not care to -enter that place again. Then we pass the doctor’s house on our left. I -tell Mr. R. of all the different village Æsculaps who have inhabited -that abode; chiefly of the first one, the venerable Dr. Geiger with -rubicund face and enormous goggles on his nose, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span> cured all my -childish complaints by means of camomile tea. It was his unvarying -remedy, his panacea; my mother assured me, long afterwards, that he -would prescribe camomile tea, and nothing else, to pregnant women. He -also had one grand and mysterious word which recurred forever in his -conversation and was pronounced with a solemn face: -<i>Abendsexacerbation</i>. I used to take it for abracadabra, a kind of -charm, never dreaming that it meant anything. His was an original way of -curing infantile headaches.</p> - -<p>“That pain is nothing,” he would remark, “I will just take it home with -me,” and therewith pretended to snatch up the headache and put it in his -pocket. The pain always vanished—or ought to have done. I must have -given him a little more trouble one day when, having been forbidden to -touch the verdigris on certain copper pipes, I made a square meal of the -lovely green stuff. It was a close shave, they told me afterwards; -camomile worked wonders on that occasion, and during convalescence he -told my mother that my pulse was placid like that of “an old cow,” which -it still is.</p> - -<p>While talking of close shaves, we had reached the very spot where I had -another one. No fun, driving inside that family barouche with a brace of -frumpy grand-aunts—no fun at all; I therefore insisted, if one must -drive, on being beside the coachman and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span> on that particular occasion, -tumbled down from my exalted perch because the horses shied at -something, and landed head first on the stony road. Ah, we are close to -Bludesch now, at the ancient church of St. Nicholas; and thereby hangs -another tale. It used to have windows of those small, fat, round, -greenish panes of hand-made glass which were common hereabouts, till a -sentimental and eccentric female relation of ours took it into her head -that she would like to build a house with no other glass in its windows -than these “runde Scheible”; it would be rather a gloomy sort of place -inside, but so picturesque, you know! The church authorities were -delighted to exchange their old-fashioned panes for others of -transparent glass; so were all the peasants round about; and in briefest -space of time there was not a “Butrescheibe” left in the countryside; -you may see one specimen of it over the old gate at Bludenz, but this -was inserted only a few years ago to give the place a more time-honored -appearance. Now here again, I explain, on our return—here, immediately -below my old home, stood a shrine dedicated to the Virgin. Twenty years -ago, during a terrific nocturnal thunderstorm, one of those gay tumults -when the sky is lilac with flashes and the Cosmos seems to be definitely -cracking to pieces, it was struck by lightning. Why was it shattered, -while all the neighboring houses, and even that of the unbelievers<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span> -above, were spared? Nobody knows to this day. All we do know is that the -priest had the débris of the disaster cleared away in record time, and -another and quite insignificant structure built in its stead.</p> - -<p>Mr. R. is not greatly moved by these and other impressive memories of my -past. He prefers to extract a sort of childish fun, not for the first -time, out of the shape and color of my felt hat which, being of the -latest London fashion, is unfamiliar to him and therefore, in his -opinion, an appropriate and inexhaustible subject for laughter in season -and out of season. Young people seem to be engrossed in externals of -this kind, and never to realize that a joke has its limits. I can stand -as much chaff as most of us, but foresee trouble ahead unless he -succeeds in discovering some fresh source of mirth.</p> - -<p>He also thinks Tiefis a pretty village, and wants to know when we are -going there again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="LUTZ_FOREST" id="LUTZ_FOREST"></a>LUTZ FOREST</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Lutz Forest</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">O</span>UT of that side-valley on our east, the Walserthal,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> issues the -rushing Lutz torrent, almost a river. It joins the Ill, our main stream, -a mile or so after quitting that valley; the Ill flows into the upper -Rhine below Feldkirch; the Rhine into the Lake of Constance not far from -Bregenz, our capital. We therefore drain into the North Sea. At a few -hours’ walk over the hills behind us, however, and again on the other -side of the Arlberg (boundary between this province and the Tyrol), the -waters drop into the Lech or Inn; this as, <i>via</i> Danube, into the Black -Sea. A simple hydrographical system.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></p> - -<p>Now ever since a recent date which I forget, when the upper Rhine -misbehaved itself so shockingly that the Austrian and Swiss Governments -were forced to undertake some costly works with a view to ensuring -better conduct in the future, our own two rivers, the Lutz and Ill, -which were likewise subject to devastating floods, began to be hemmed in -by stone embankments more systematically and more remorselessly than -they had ever yet been in days of old, when they also gave an infinity -of trouble. For it was obvious that their freakishness, coinciding with -that of the Rhine and due to continued showers in these upper regions, -was responsible for a certain amount of the Rhine’s damage. The -consequence is, that Lutz and Ill have put on new faces and grown -painfully proper; they are no longer the wantons they were. And -therefore all the fascinating wilderness of gray shingle and bowlders -alongside, sparsely dotted with buckthorn, or white willow, or stunted -little ghosts of birches—all that broad sunny desolation of their -banks, where one chased crimson-winged grasshoppers and looked for -garnets in those water-worn blocks of gneiss: all, all a thing of the -past! Our streams now flow, in miserably straight lines, each down its -own narrow channel, and large tracts of the unprofitable soil on either -side have been planted with flourishing young pines and firs—an -excellent investment for such worthless gravel-land<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span> hereabouts. Gone -are the garnets and grasshoppers; gone is the charm of those pallid -wastes. The economist gains. The poet, as usual, looks on and counts his -loss.</p> - -<p>Our village, lying on the north side of the valley, faces south; the -valley may here be two and a half miles wide, as the crow flies. First -come fields, then a broad stretch of woodland through which runs the Ill -river and the railway Paris-Vienna, then hills once more, in the shape -of the unprepossessing mountain called Tschallenga—popularly “der -Stein.” It is all quite simple.</p> - -<p>On our way yesterday into these low-lying forests, we passed through the -meadow beside the church of St. Anne. A large stretch of the adjoining -woodland has recently been extirpated and converted into pasture—the -uprooted trunks are still lying about; those two old lime trees remain -untouched; the little stream has run dry. Here, on this meadow, was a -surprise: a football ground. It wore a neglected air; the boys can only -play on Sundays, since the war. Here the lords of Blumenegg used to be -received in state by the people, their lieges; here, during the Thirty -Years’ War, the fighting men of the countryside were to assemble at a -given signal by day or night, completely armed and furnished with three -days’ provision each. Here also, wholly unconcerned about the Thirty -Years’ War, I used to wait for a youthful companion<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span> to whom I was -fondly attached; here we sat and exchanged confidences, and fashioned -rustic pipes out of the twig of some shrub whose bark, in spring, can be -pulled away from its wood like the glove off a finger.</p> - -<p>On a certain occasion—an occasion which I regard as a turning-point—I -happened to be all alone under the pines a little further on, near that -former bank of the river which is still marked by huge blocks of -defensive stone-work, now useless and smothered under a tangle of -brushwood. We visited, yesterday, the very spot where, at the callow age -of seven, I formulated, and was promptly appalled by its import, a -far-reaching aphorism: There is no God. For some obscure reason (perhaps -to test the consequences) those awful words were spoken aloud. Nothing -happened. Who can tell what previous internal broodings had led to this -explosive utterance! None at all, very likely. The phenomenon may have -been as natural and easy of birth as the flowering of a plant, the -cutting of a wisdom tooth—which, as every one knows, is nearly always a -painless process. There it was: the thing had been said. Often, later -on, that little incident under the pines recurred to my memory. I used -to ask myself: Why make such earth-convulsing speeches? And then again: -Why not? Which means the periodical relapses into credulity, into a kind -of funk, rather,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span> occurred for the next few years. After that, my -intellect ceased to be clouded by anthropomorphic interpretations of the -universe. Let each think as he pleases. To me, even as a boy, it was -misery to profess credence in any of this Mumbo-Jumbo or to conform to -any of its rites; and a considerable relief, therefore, to escape from -England into a German gymnasium where, although games were not -officially encouraged and work fifty times harder than at -home—theology, among other subjects, being drummed into us with -pestilential persistence—one was at least not asphyxiated by the -noisome atmosphere of mediæval ecclesiasticism which infected English -public schools in those days, and will doubtless infect them in <i>saecula -saeculorum</i>. That everlasting “chapel” with its murky Gothic ritual—and -before breakfast too: what a fearsome way of beginning the morning! Let -each think as he pleases. I have better uses for my leisure than to try -to bring others round to any convictions of mine, such as they are; far -better uses. Enough for me to have watched the virus at work; and if I -seem to be sensitive on this one point—why, here are scores of -respectable elderly gentlemen wrangling themselves into hysterics over -sanitation and Zionism and Irish politics and other conundrums that -seldom trouble my dreams.</p> - -<p>So it came about that yesterday, at the end of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span> nearly fifty years, I -approached once more, and with a kind of reverence, the sacred spot -under the trees where the Lutz used to flow, and there thanked my genius -for preserving me from not the least formidable of those antediluvian -nightmares which afflict mankind at its most critical period of -life—the nightmare of hopes never to be realized and of torments hardly -worth laughing at; and from all its mischievous and perverse -complications. Well, well! Men in general are brought up so differently -nowadays that they cannot realize what a disheartening trial it was for -some of us youngsters at that particular age and in that particular -environment, where you could heave a Liddell and Scott at your -form-master’s head and only get a caning for it like anybody else, -whereas, if you were suspected of doubting the miracle of the barren -fig-tree, you were forthwith quarantined, isolated, despatched into a -kind of leper-colony, all by yourself. Boys are gregarious; they resent -such treatment. Let each think as he pleases. What I think is that a -grown-up man would be a poor fellow, unless he felt fairly comfortable -in any leper-colony into which these gentle ghost-worshipers may care to -relegate him....</p> - -<p>The woods grow thicker and more solemn as you proceed downward in the -direction of Nenzing, tall firs of both varieties, some of them -ivy-wreathed, interspersed with pine-trees whose trunks of rose and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span> -silver, struggling to obtain the same amount of light, shoot up straight -as lances; sunny clearings and stretches of meadowland where the cattle -graze knee-deep in spring; an undergrowth of junipers and other shrubs -just sufficient to diversify the scene and please the eye—never too -dense: noiselessly one treads on that emerald moss!</p> - -<p>I had intended to take Mr. R. into a part of the forest which has always -interested me and which I never fail to visit, a region of starved pigmy -pines; and there to give him a little lecture in English on the -formation of forest loam. The Lutz in 1625, or the Ill in 1651—it is -impossible for me to decide which of the two—changed its course in -consequence of a sudden flood and took a turn to the south, abandoning -its former bed. The result was that an area of bleak shingle, far -broader than the present river-bed, was left exposed in the middle of -the forest. Myriads of pine seeds have been scattered upon it ever -since, and the puny trees grow up slowly, dwarfishly; casting down but a -yearly handful of needles each, to form the necessary soil for future -generations. No moss has yet taken root after all these years, nor can -the more fastidious firs draw sustenance; the little pines, rising from -naked pebbles under foot, are in undisputed possession of the territory. -Had there been leafy willows or alders at hand, as in the Scesa-tobel -near Bludenz, the earthy covering would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span> been produced long ago and -this quasi-sterile tract merged into the forest on either side of it. -There were nothing but conifers on the spot, when the river forsook its -old channel; and it is uphill work for them. The “flourishing” pines and -firs of which I spoke just now have been judiciously planted; these are -self-sown. They are paying for the privilege.</p> - -<p>We also intended to visit the <i>Schnepfenstrich</i>, a piece of forest -between Bludesch and Nenzing where, in days gone by, one used to lie in -wait for the woodcock at nightfall. What excitement in the dim gloaming -of March—<i>Oculi: da kommen sie</i>—among those patches of trees with -their scent of dampness and sprouting leaves, listening for the call of -the male bird and waiting to see him glide past, mysterious as a -phantom! That was sport worthy of the name; though I now find it not -altogether easy to conjure up the first fine rapture of that -bird-massacring epoch. How unimaginative—unpoetic, let us say—are the -English, who put up this apparition of the twilight in the vulgarest -fashion with a dog, and then slaughter him as if he were nothing but a -pheasant or partridge! Such is our manner. It is the same with the -capercailzie, a stupid, worthless fowl—and worse than worthless: is he -not supplanting the finer black game? Why not ennoble him in death, at -least? Why not approach stealthily in the chill dusk of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span> dawn, and espy -him at last, drunk with passion, on his favorite fir? Then, if you can -aim straight, he dies as we may all desire to die—swiftly, painlessly, -and like a lover in his highest moment of exaltation. I know what -Englishmen will say to this. They will say something about cruelty and -breeding-season. Your Anglo-Saxon is always worth listening to, when he -talks about cruel sports.</p> - -<p>We had <i>intended</i>, I say; but those pests of horse-flies, which Mr. R. -insists upon calling “fly-horses” or “flyses-horse,” became worse and -worse. There must have been cattle in this wood, not long ago. At last, -despite clouds of tobacco-smoke, they drove us fairly out into the -fields, and not long afterwards we found ourselves on the banks of the -“Feldbächle,” a cheery streamlet whose course, from start to finish, has -approximately the shape of a horse-shoe or, better still, of a capital -letter U, resting on its left flank. It rises in a copious and frigid -fountain, soon to be visited, on the uplands behind our village, flows -east through a charming swamp region, feeds the two reservoirs, tumbles -downhill in a spectacular fall—the cataract whose water-power tempted -my paternal grandfather to establish his cotton-mills on this spot, and -which is therefore the <i>causa causans</i> of my presence here at this -moment—babbles fussily through the village, and there turns westwards -through these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span> fields, to merge itself into the Tabalada stream lower -down. A short but lively career.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> - -<p>Sometimes, in dry weather, this rivulet is blocked and allowed to flow -over the parched plain. My first memory of it dates from such an -occasion. There were puddles in the stream-bed here and there, puddles -full of trout; and a number of Italian workmen—we employed a good many -Italians at the factories—were catching these trout with their hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span> -and eating them alive, as if they were apples. A disgusting sight, now I -come to think of it.</p> - -<p>A little later in life, I remember, and on a scorching summer afternoon, -my sister and I bolted into these fields from the house, presumably -after butterflies. How the sun blazed; how hot and sticky we were! And -here was the old Feldbächle full of water, gadding along in its usual -brisk style. An idea occurred to her. What about walking into it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span> -clothes and all? Then, at last, we should be cool again. No; not paddle -about the water like anybody else, but get right in, get properly in, in -up to the neck, and lie down there as if we were in bed. A great joke. -It was only on scrambling out again that we began to wonder what would -happen at home and what, in fact, might be the correct thing to do under -the circumstances. The problem was solved by an uphill march along the -petrifying brook to far above the needful level, a flank movement -eastwards in the rear of our own house, followed by a rapid descent into -that of our friend the gardener who, with his usual ingenuity, lighted -an immense fire at which our scanty summer garments were dried, one by -one.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>Those old cotton-mills of ours at the foot of the cataract of which I -spoke are an ugly blot on the landscape; an eyesore, none the less, -which I can view without resentment, since, indirectly, I owe existence -to them and would not have missed the enjoyment of this life for -anything, nor would I exchange it even now for that of any other -creature on earth.</p> - -<p>The paternal grandfather who built and worked them almost to the day of -his death must have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span> a man of uncommon grit. I know little about -him. A mass of family documents full of the requisite information, as -well as other papers interesting to myself, were lost in one of those -accidents which occur to everybody now and then; a trunk was broken open -on a journey, the clothes stolen and these letters and things scattered -or thrown away by the thieves. Small comfort to receive insurance money -for the clothes! I would have preferred the papers which are now lost -for ever.</p> - -<p>I cannot even say when this business was founded. It may have been in -the late thirties, for he died October, 1870, aged sixty-six, at -Banchory, N. B., where he ought to have died, and there lies entombed in -our vault. His object in thus exiling himself and family for a whole -lifetime was to earn enough money to pay back some heavy mortgages on -his ancestral estate, for which he had an idolatrous affection. This -much I happen to know: that in 1856 already, by working these mills, he -was able to repay £36,000 towards the cost of them, and £24,000 towards -redeeming the mortgages. So he set himself to his grim task; and a grim -task it must have been to master the immense technical and commercial -details of such an undertaking, and all in a foreign language; to import -(among other little difficulties) every scrap of machinery from -Lancashire with no railway nearer, I fancy, than Zurich. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span> worked with -single aim and lived to reap his reward, although the losses due to the -American Civil War, and the Austro-German one, were such that the whole -enterprise nearly came to grief.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> - -<p>His portrait in old age, engraved from a photograph on one of those -shell-cameos which used to be fashionable, wears an air of clean-cut, -thoughtful determination. They told me of his effective way with -beggars. “Work!” he would say, whenever one of them turned up with his -usual tale of misery. “Work! I also work.” The other, naturally enough, -professed himself quite unable to find any work. Whereupon, to the -beggar’s intense disgust, he promptly found it for him. These gentlemen -learnt to avoid our house in his day. I also gathered that his favorite -ode of Horace was “Integer vitæ.” That sounds characteristic. My own -fancy leans towards the Lady of Antium....</p> - -<p>His eldest son carried on the business, and to him, with his love of -mountaineering and multiple other activities, it must have been irksome -in the extreme to sit in that office. He also stuck it out, but died -young and, from all accounts, the best-loved man in the province, -despite his Lutheran faith. Having oc<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span>casion, during my last visit to -Bregenz, to mention my name to an unknown shopkeeper who was to send me -a parcel, I was pleased to hear him say “Your name, dear sir, is eternal -in this country.” It is doubtless gratifying to find yourself in a -district where your family is held in honor. One must try, however, not -to take these things too melodramatically. We live but once; we owe -nothing to posterity; and a man’s own happiness counts before that of -any one else. My father’s tastes happen to have lain in a direction -which commended him to his fellows. Had his nature driven him along -lines that failed to secure their sympathy, or even their approval, I -should have been the last to complain. The world is wide! Instead of -coming here, one would have gone somewhere else.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="BLUMENEGG" id="BLUMENEGG"></a>BLUMENEGG</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Blumenegg</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>FTERNOON, and warmer than usual. Fön shifts about in irresolute, -vagrant puffs of heat; the sky, shortly before sunrise, had been flaring -red, copper-colored, from end to end. This is the ardent and wayward but -caressing wind under whose touch everything grows brittle and -inflammable; when in olden days all cooking had to be suspended and -fires extinguished; when whole villages, for some trifling reason, were -burnt to the ground; it was during Fön weather that Tiefis and Nüziders, -and several in the Rhine valley, were annihilated within the memory of -our fathers.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> The peasants, unfamiliar with real heat, go about -gasping....</p> - -<p>While crossing our cemetery to revisit the grave of a little brother of -my father’s, an infant, and the Catholics were kind enough to make room -for him here—it struck me how poetic are the German designations for -such sad spots, <i>Friedhof</i> and <i>Gottesacker</i>, when contrasted with our -soul-withering “churchyard” or “graveyard” or “burial-ground.” The -people hereabouts contrive to invest with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span> halo of romance even that -most unromantic of objects, the common potato, by calling it <i>Erdapfel</i>, -or <i>Grundbirne</i>. And the names of the ruined castles that strew this -region, Schattenburg, Sonnenberg, Rosenegg, and so forth, were surely -invented by a race that had a fine feeling for such things.</p> - -<p>Or Blumenegg—which happens to be nothing but a translation of -Florimont, the Rhaeto-Roman name of this locality.</p> - -<p>If you follow the main road to Ludesch, you will pass through a fir wood -and then come to the Lutz bridge. Do not cross the stream; keep on this -side, and walk along the water. After a few hundred yards you will -arrive at the “Schlosstobel” (the old “Falster”; also called -“Storrbach”) which rushes past the foot of Blumenegg castle. Not many -years ago it descended in a wild flood, uprooting trees and covering the -ground with a hideous irruption of shingle, which will remain for some -little time. On the Schlosstobel’s other side you enter a forest called -Gstinswald; part of it used to belong to our family. Here, at the -entrance of this wood, stood a landmark; a picture attached to a tree, -in memory of a man who was drowned at this spot while endeavoring to -cross the rivulet during some spate of olden days. It was a realistic -work of art, depicting both Heaven and earth. This was the subject: down -below, a watery<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span> chaos, a black thundercloud out of which buckets of -rain descended upon the victim whom you beheld struggling in the -whirlpool of waves, while his open umbrella floated disconsolately in -the neighborhood; overhead, on the other side of the thundercloud (it -had taken on a golden tinge of sunshine half way through) the Mother of -God with a saint or two, gazing down upon the scene with an air of -detachment which bordered on indifference. The picture is no longer -there; and nothing remains of its tree save a moldy stump.</p> - -<p>From this point you can climb direct to the castle. We preferred to -wander awhile up the Gstinswald which clothes the right flank of the -Lutz river, in order to see what has happened to that mysterious and -solitary peasant-house which lay on a grassy slope in the forest. It is -still there, but those skulls of foxes and badgers and other beasts, -nailed by its occupant to a certain wooden door—skulls that held a -fascination for us children—are gone. And what of the snowdrops? This, -and a little hillock near Ludesch, were the only places where they could -be found; tiger-lilies grew elsewhere; <i>primula auricula</i> only at the -Hanging Stone; cyclamen only at Feldkirch (where they were discovered in -the middle of the sixteenth century by Hieronymus Bock); the cypripedium -orchid (<i>calceolus Divæ Virginis</i>), the lady’s slipper, at two other -places; stag’s horn moss,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span> <i>vulgo</i> “Fuchsschwanz,” at four or five: we -knew them all! but flowers were dropped, when butterflies began. From -this farmhouse you have an unexpected view upon the summit of the -Scesaplana, and by far the best time to come here is after a summer -shower, when a procession of white mists comes trailing out of the -narrow valley, one after the other, like a troop of ghosts. Now ascend -through the field and the tract of woodland immediately behind this -farm, and you will reach a broad meadow which bears the old name of -Quadera or Quadern; against the huge barn which used to stand there, all -by itself, they have erected a modern house full of people. The castle -is not far off; you must look for it, since the little path that once -led up is half obliterated. And therein lies a great part of its charm; -you must look for it....</p> - -<p>When all is said and done, when you have scoured Europe and other -regions in search of the picturesque and admired landscapes and ruins -innumerable, that shattered old fastness of Blumenegg, up there, still -remains one of the fairest places on earth. It is desolation itself, a -harmonious desolation, among its dreamy firs and beeches; firs within, -firs and beeches without. The roof is gone, and so are nearly all the -internal partitions; nothing but the shell survives. This shell, this -massive outer wall of blocks partly hewn and partly in the -rough—water<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span>-worn bowlders, dragged up from the Lutz-bed below—is -encrusted with moss wherever moss can grow; out of that moss sprout -little firs and little beeches, drawing what nourishment they can from -the old stones. They garnish the ruin. So Blumenegg is invaded by -nature; and nature, here, has been left untouched. A castle in a tale! -Elsewhere you see bare stretches of this wall, that tower up sadly in -ever-crumbling pinnacles. All is green within the shell; its firs are so -cunningly distributed that you can just see through them from one end to -the other of the ruin and realize, with pleasure, that you are within -some ancient enclosure. They rise out of an uneven floor whereunder, one -suspects, lie buried the roof and interior walls. This floor is thickly -carpeted with moss in every part. No brambles or inconvenient shrubs -grow here; nothing but firs and moss, and creeping ivy, and hepatica, -and daphne and the tender <i>Waldmeister</i> plant, that calls up memories of -May. Once inside that green <i>enceinte</i>, a suggestion of remoteness -overcomes you; the world and its jargon are left behind. There is -silence save for the rushing torrent with its waterfall, three hundred -feet below. In former days, this castle must have towered grandly over -Ludesch and the whole valley. Viewed from down there, it now resembles -an agglomeration of spiky gray crags, peering upward through the firs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span></p> - -<p>Doubtless they have written about this place and, if one took the -trouble, one could learn something of its past either from archives or -out of the histories published by local antiquarians. There has never -been a want of such people hereabouts; the province is rich in -literature of this class. A rather valuable book which has remained in -my possession by a miracle and was printed in “dem Gräfflichem Marckt -Embs” in 1616<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> gives some account of it; but though I know little -enough, I know more than its old author could possibly have recorded, -since Blumenegg “flourished” long after he did. Eight different -dynasties have ruled here; the last being the Austrian Crown, to whom -its rights devolved at the beginning of last century. The castle was -probably built in the twelfth; it is known to have stood in 1265 and is -described as a “Veste” in 1288; its lords had power over the three -neighboring villages and some of the Valentschina (the old name of the -Walserthal). They were answerable for their acts to no township, to no -civil or religious authority whatever; to none save the Emperor himself. -That is the way to live, for it was an undertaking of questionable -profit to complain of such people to the Emperor. They claimed the right -over life and death of their lieges and exercised it freely, -“<i>because</i>”—as one of them observed in 1397<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span>—“<i>we possess both stocks -and gallows</i>”: an adequate reason. That is the way to talk.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> They -also executed robbers with the sword. Then, together with nearly all our -feudal strongholds, this castle was sacked by the Appenzell people of -Switzerland in 1405. Its outer wall is down, on the east. From this -flank, presumably, the invaders entered for their work of destruction. A -spot is still pointed out by the driving road, on the other side of the -wild torrent, where, during some siege, the horses of a noble coach took -fright at the sound of cannon-shots and threw themselves down the -precipice, carriage and all.</p> - -<p>Blumenegg revived. It was rebuilt and, during the Thirty Years’ War, -contained fifty Swedish prisoners in its “Keuthe,” a dungeon which was -pretty full even on ordinary occasions. Then, in 1650, the place was -burnt down with all it contained—priceless treasures among them, such -as the long-hidden manu<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span>script of the <i>Chronicon Hirsaugiense</i> in the -handwriting of its famous author, the Abbot Tritheim, of which, -fortunately, a copy had been taken a little earlier at St. Gallen. The -building was reduced to ashes a second time in 1774, and thereafter -allowed to fall into ruin, for ever. Why, I cannot say. Who would live -at Blumenegg if he could, particularly in that earlier period? The south -part of the castle, facing the valley, bears traces of a clumsy -reconstruction. It lacks the dreaminess of the remaining part; a harsher -element of stones dominates in this quadrangle, and you can discover an -old fire-place with blackened chimney and a few projecting wooden beams. -For the rest, it must have looked well, blazing up there; I can picture -the villagers of Ludesch down below, watching the conflagration and -dancing with joy!</p> - -<p>It did not take us long to make ourselves comfortable within the -enclosure, on that soft carpet. The sun was still fairly high; it -percolated through the fir-branches, etching lively patterns all around -us; it drew luscious tints, of unearthly brightness, out of the deep -green moss. And here we stayed, and stayed. We had fallen under the -spell of the place and neither felt inclined to move; some drowsy genius -hovered in our neighborhood. It was so warm and green; so remote. How -one changes! I used to find it irksome to be obliged to show this castle -to friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span> or relatives. Left to my own devices, I avoided the place; -there were no butterflies, no fossils, no snakes, no birds, worth -mentioning. Ten to one, not even a squirrel....</p> - -<p>Since then, castle-ruins galore have been inspected. Europe is studded -with them. I think of those absurd places in England or on the Rhine, -possibly restored and in every case sullied by tourists and their -traces; out of them, the spirit of romance has been driven beyond -recall. The frowning rock-fortresses of the Bavarian Palatinate—Dahn, -Weglenburg, Trifels, Madenburg, Lindelbronn, Fleckenstein: how one used -to know them!—are in better case, or were, thirty odd years ago; even -they have not escaped contamination. Certain southern ruins are no doubt -imposing; but bleak. Bleak! Mere piles of masonry, they have not been -hallowed by lapse of years; they lack the refinement which verdure alone -can give; their ravages will show for all time. Those ravages are healed -here; trees and moss have done their work so well that an exquisite -<i>tonalité</i> pervades the spot. Blumenegg is all in one key. Men have left -it to crumble alone; and alone it crumbles, slowly and graciously, to -earth. Nothing and nobody intrudes, save the wild things of nature; you -must look for it. A much-frequented path—short cut from the Walserthal -to the railway-station—runs close by; who ever steps aside? Resting in -that enchanted<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span> penumbra, one gains the impression that Blumenegg is -neither sad nor smiling; a little wistful, a little sleepy, like old -Barbarossa in his cave.</p> - -<p>What of the intimate, domestic life of its former occupants? On a night, -say, of December, 1402—of whom did the family consist, what was their -costume, their dinner menu, the sound of their dialect, their theme of -conversation? Does it help us much to know that Count Wolfart, -familiarly termed “the wolflet”—it probably suited him—could bring -five thousand men into battle? (An enormous number; can they have meant -five hundred?) Poke our noses, as we please, into chronicles, and pore -over books like Freytag’s “Bilder aus der deutschen Vergangenheit,” -these men remain crepuscular, elusive shapes. The Romans of the Empire, -the pyramid builders of Egypt, move in comparative daylight before our -eyes....</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the mossy floor has ceased to glow. Slanting sunbeams come -filtered, lemon-tinted, through the beech-leaves out there; they spatter -the fir-trunks with moon-like discs and crescents. And still we refuse -to budge. A soft tinkle of cow-bells, inaudible by day, floats up from -the valley; even as we look on, those silvery patches begin to fade from -the trees, and everything trembles in the witchery of dusk. Interplay of -light and shade is ended. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span> feel no change, while darkness creeps up -stealthily; only the voice of the torrent has grown louder and hoarser. -A flock of crows suddenly arrives, with the evident intention of -roosting above our heads. Something apparently is not in order to-night, -for they rise again with discontented croakings. No wonder. Mr. R. has -been lying flat on his back for the last half hour immediately below -them, playing tunes on that mouth-organ—that talisman which I, in a -moment of inspiration, presented to him. On such occasions he is lost to -the world and in a kind of trance; one arm beats time in the air. The -birds cannot possibly see him, but they can hear the music, and no crow -on earth, not the wisest old raven, could guess the names of the -“morceaux” which have just been performed.</p> - -<p>“What were you playing, all this time?” I enquire, during a pause.</p> - -<p>“Well, there was the <i>marche des escargots</i>, which you must be sick of, -by now—a fine piece, all the same; and the old <i>vache enragée</i>——”</p> - -<p>“I know. Rather noisy, the old <i>vache</i>.”</p> - -<p>“What do you expect? Do you want her to go mad in her sleep. Then the -<i>fantaisie</i> of last week, and <i>pluie dans les bois</i>, and the duet -between two sea-nymphs, and <i>rêve d’un papillon</i> and a new one, a little -caprice or something, which has not yet got a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span> name. I am thinking of -calling it <i>coin des fleurs</i> (Blumenegg<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>).”</p> - -<p>Strange! This instrument appeals, as I expected, to certain primitive -and childlike streaks in his nature. At first, needless to say, it was -thrown aside with contempt; then shyly picked up from time to time. Now -the two are inseparable; it accompanies him everywhere in a specially -built leather case, and I should not be surprised to learn that he takes -it to bed with him. As to these “morceaux”—they have a real interest, -seeing that Mr. R. knows nothing whatever of music, cannot remember a -tune, never whistles or sings, and has only a feeble ear for rhythm in -poetry. None the less, each of these <i>melodies</i> possesses a character of -its own and, once invented, never varies by a note. Their names, I -understand, are recorded in his diary. They are worth it.</p> - -<p>Night; and dark night, under these trees. The Fön is over, a chill dew -has fallen. We rise at last, rather stiff, and proceed cautiously -downwards till we reach the path; then across the bridge and into the -open meadow, the so-called fox-meadow, when—our match-box, our only -match-box: where is it gone? Forgotten inside the castle, on the moss. -Back again, to crawl about on hands and knees till the precious<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span> object -has been found; then once more to the fox-meadow. So we wander homeward, -in full content. The dew-drenched field sends a pleasant shiver up -through our boots, and a chorus of crickets is chirping lustily in its -damp earth. Stars are out; the Tschallenga hill, confronting us, has -become pitch-black; those Rhætian peaks are like steel, and their -snow-patches have a dead look at this hour. Tawny exhalations, as of -lingering day, flit about the Swiss mountains on our west. Some grass -has been mown up here, during the hot afternoon; the air is full of its -fragrance.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>Blumenegg and such places—these are the surroundings in which children -ought to grow up. At home, domestic beasts of every kind, and gardens -and orchards; further afield, flowery meadows and forests; the -glittering snow of winter and cloudless summer skies; rock and rivulet; -a smiling patriarchal peasantry all about; these are the surroundings. -Keep them off the street-pavement.</p> - -<p>Impermanent things, like pavements and what they stand for, stimulate -the adult; they overstimulate children, who should be in contact with -eternities. In a town you may watch the progress of their warp<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span>ing; how -they grow up precocious and partially atrophied; defrauded of their full -heritage as human beings. Indeed all town-bred persons, with the rarest -exceptions, are incomplete, in a certain small sense of that word. They -show a gap which, unlike other gaps (deficient learning or manners) can -never be filled up in later years. The intelligent countryman does not -take long to appreciate the most complex wonders of civilization, -because his life began at the right end of things; your citizen will -only stare at those other wonders with more or less impatience: he began -at the wrong end. One can tell after five minutes’ conversation whether -a man has been brought up in city or country, for no townsman, be he of -what class he pleases, can hide his native imperfection.</p> - -<p>Or go to literature, the surest test, since <i>scripta manent</i>. It -happened to be my fate for some years to peruse daily a considerable -mass of the latest so-called lyric poetry, and a melancholy task it was -following these youngsters as they floundered about in a vain search -after new gods, unaware of the fact that the lyrical temper demands a -peculiar environment for its nurture, that gods are shy, and not to be -encountered in music-halls and restaurants, or even during a week-end at -the seaside. There were no eternities for these people, and consequently -no true joy, no true grief; no heights, no depths; they<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span> fell into two -categories: the hectic and the drab. The lyrical temper.... One uses -such expressions, without perhaps being clear as to their meaning. What -is the lyrical temper? A capacity to warble about buttercups? I should -describe it as a sympathetic feeling for the myriad processes of nature, -and the application of this gift towards interpreting human phenomena -with concision and poignancy; the sense, in short, of being borne along, -together with all else on earth, in a soft pantheistic commotion.</p> - -<p>That is a view of life which generates both tears and smiles, and one -which you will vainly seek in any town-bred writer. Compare Milton, not -with Theocritus or Shakespeare, but with a poet of the caliber of Ovid, -and you will realize how much more individual and authoritative his -utterance would be, had he enjoyed Ovid’s advantages in childhood. He -saw nature through books, say Mr. Tuckwell and Mr. Cotterill and all the -rest of them;<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span> scenery is charmingly manufactured according to -the renaissance prescription, and if you know your Italian poets you can -tell beforehand what Milton will have to say; a master of landscape -arrangement, without a doubt, but—he lacked what Ovid possessed, an -æsthetic personality; he was a moralist, as every one grows to be, who -takes his fellow-creatures at their own estimate. And how avoid doing -this, if you are always among them? For there they live clustered -together, and involuntarily disposed to attach undue significance to -themselves and their works, to lose their sense of proportion, until -some little interference from that despised exterior makes itself felt, -an earthquake or such-like, which gives these posturing ephemerals an -opportunity to straighten out their values again.</p> - -<p>Charles Lamb is another street-walker, and one whose relish of man and -his ways, to my taste, never cloys, inasmuch as it remains firm-fixed on -the hither side of lachrymosity. Yet is there not a certain shallowness -in his preoccupation with fellow-creatures? Shallowness suggests want of -depth; want of breadth is what I wish to imply. Zest, temperamental -zest, should be a fountain, scattering playfully in all directions; -Lamb’s comfortable variety is unilateral—a fountain gushing from a -wall. How many avenues of delight are closed to the mere moralist or -immoralist who knows nothing of things extra-human;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span> who remains -absorbed in mankind and its half-dozen motives of conduct, so unstable -and yet forever the same, which we all fathomed before we were twenty! -Well, their permutations and combinations afford a little material for -playwrights and others, and there is no harm in going to the theater now -and then, or reading a novel, provided you have nothing better to do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="FATHER_BRUHIN" id="FATHER_BRUHIN"></a>FATHER BRUHIN</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Father Bruhin</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HIS was a pious pilgrimage.</p> - -<p>Ages ago there used to come to our house a visitor, a friend of my -father’s, a Benedictine monk of the name of Bruhin. Of him I have, or -till yesterday thought to have, dim, childish memories. He lived in the -neighboring convent of St. Gerold—offshoot of the famous -Einsiedeln—and was a naturalist, a <i>rara avis</i> hereabouts. I still -possess seven of his papers, mostly on the fauna and flora of this -particular province: thoroughly good work. He was a loving and accurate -student both of animals and plants, and of their literature. St. Gerold -is the second of various hamlets and villages in the long verdant -Walserthal on our east, up which now runs a convenient carriage road -ending (the road; not the valley) at the distant Buchboden, five hours’ -march away. We went there, because I was anxious to learn, if possible, -a few details of Bruhin’s life and to see whether their library -contained any other works by him.</p> - -<p>It is a pleasant, easy walk to St. Gerold, but the pilgrimage proved a -disappointment. In the Prio<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span>r’s absence, the archives could not be -consulted; a young monk, a stranger who was undergoing a kind of -rest-cure here—he looked a little haggard—accompanied us up to the -library at the top of the building. It was well stored with books such -as one might expect to find there, but contained not a scrap by Bruhin.</p> - -<p>At the library our guide left us in charge of that old woman who has -haunted the premises from time immemorial; her hair has grown whiter -since last we met, her eyes are black as ever. She showed the way -through some of those comfortably furnished bedrooms with their fine -seventeenth century wood-carvings; into the church, which has been -tastefully redecorated and where the recent governmental brigandage has -not spared even the greater of the tin organ-pipes; finally down to the -kitchen which, like the organ, is worked by electricity. There she fed -Mr. R. on cider and cheese, saying she hoped they would soon be able to -receive guests again and keep them overnight, if necessary; at present, -everything was upside down, everything!</p> - -<p>Had the Prior been visible, our search might have led to something; he -was away on the mountains. Whether he resembles him of olden days? That -one, I remember, used to come down and see us, and could generally be -induced to stay for luncheon or dinner. It was his habit, while eating, -to produce a formidable smacking noise—Germans call it -<i>Schmatzen</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span>—with his lips, a noise which we were strictly forbidden to -make. One day at mealtime I gave a splendid imitation of the Prior over -his soup, thinking that what was good enough for him would surely be -good enough for me, and hoping, at all events, to gain some little -applause. Instead of that, I was told: “Only His Reverence the Prior may -make that noise. When you are Prior, you shall make it too. Meanwhile, -try to eat like everybody else, unless you want to be sent out of the -room.” A damper....</p> - -<p>So much for Bruhin. All we gleaned at St. Gerold was that he served as -“Co-operator” there from 1865 to 1868 and after that, presumably, left -the convent. If so, the monk whom I hazily recall must have been a -different one, unless Bruhin continued his visits to us from some other -quarter after 1868. The Bregenz libraries might contain more of his -writings; I shall look for them, if we go there.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> - -<p>Homewards again. On leaving one of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span> wooded torrents that seam the -road, a little incident was recalled to my mind by the sight of a -certain wayside shrine which stands here. We were once passing along, as -children, when we noticed that its door had been left open and a heap of -coppers laid inside by some pious person or persons for the benefit of -any poor travelers who might care to help themselves. I imagine it was -my sister’s idea. She took a handful, and persuaded me to take one too. -Nobody saw us; the governess was walking on ahead. She behaved even more -flagrantly on another occasion when a plateful of money was being held -aloft, for the same charitable purpose, among a congregation pouring out -of some church. She reached up and swiftly grabbed a number of coins; -perhaps I followed her example. Now what could we children want with -money? The delicacies of the village were only three: sugar-candy in -crystals, dried figs strung together, and black sticks of licorice -(<i>vulgo</i> “Bährendreck”) and we had exhausted their charm long, long ago, -in the days of the old Anna.</p> - -<p>This nurse it was, by the way, who first took me to the hamlet of -Thüringerberg, where I now found myself walking with Mr. R. who had -induced me, for reasons which became apparent later on, to abandon the -main road in favor of one that leads due west. It shows how little she -then knew the country—she was a Tyrolese, not a native—that, after -dragging me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span> up here, aged three or four, she had to enquire the name of -the place. I came home with a wonderful tale of having been to -Thüringerberg, which was not believed; old Anna, afterwards, got it hot -for making me walk too far. Up there, meanwhile, the kindly priest -invited us to his house to rest; he gave us coffee and honey, and even -offered me a pinch of his snuff—the first of several I have since -taken.</p> - -<p>Two roads descend from Thüringerberg in the direction of the distant -Satteins—the convenient new one down below, and the ancient track on -the higher level. Of course we chose the latter, that old, grass-grown, -abandoned path. Memories lurk about these forsaken places; and memories -have become my hobby during the last week or so. This particular track -reminds me of sundry strolls down here ages ago with a Sempill cousin, -the jovial Jumbo, who turned up in this country at odd intervals to our -infinite delight. He was so utterly different from all the other people -who arrived from those remote regions! The peasants adored him; he could -hold long conversations with them in their own language by imitating the -sound of their voices, which amused them mightily; he knew not a word of -German. He used to sit for hours in their orchards, drinking wine or -playing with the babies; when any one greeted him on the road with the -usual “Grüass Gott,” he would reply “Great Scot”; if they said “Gueta -Tag,” he said<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span> “Good dog.” What a relief was Jumbo, after those legions -of unspeakable grand-aunts! They never left us alone; they were always -pulling us about, as if we had no nurses or governesses of our own, to -teach us how to behave. Always interfering! You mustn’t eat this; you -mustn’t do that; little girls don’t climb trees; little boys ought to -know that cows are not made to be ridden about on; never jump down till -the carriage stops; you know what happened to Don’t Care? He was hanged; -have you said your prayers? Children should be seen and not heard; a -fourth helping? Now don’t do yourself any violence, dear; it’s long past -bed-time—how we loathed the entire clan! Nearly everything, in fact, -that hailed from Scotland was fraught with terrors.</p> - -<p>But the terror of terrors was our paternal grandmother. If the others of -that family resembled her, their descendants are to be pitied. And to -think that she may have been the best of all of them! I confess that, -looking over some photographs at this distance of time, I fail to see -anything terrible in her appearance; here she is, for instance, at -Llandudno, looking straight at you, grave and serene, with the long -upper lip peculiar to her family and a high forehead; rather a handsome -old woman, and one who evidently knows her mind. That may well be. -Handsome or not, she spanked me as an infant, before I could walk—so -much I remember clearly; what I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span> cannot clearly remember is, whether she -had any plausible reason for doing it. Later on, she punished us in the -stern judicial manner which was agreeable to the taste of her generation -and which is precisely the one way children should never be punished. -Wonderful tales were told us of her methods of subduing her only -daughter, who died in youth—perhaps from the effects of it—and lies -buried under an elaborately inscribed tombstone in the Protestant -cemetery at Rome. No doubt she meant to do right; it is an old pretext -for doing wrong. Children should be “broken”: that was her theory.</p> - -<p>She never broke me. Something else happened one day, during the -Christmas holidays in England. I was in my twelfth year, all alone, -perfectly comfortable and perfectly well, delighted to have escaped for -a season out of some absurd school, and reading the “Mysteries of -Udolpho” in the library when the old thing entered with an all-too -familiar silver tray, bearing the abominable mixture known as “Gregory’s -Powder.” It was her universal remedy for every complaint of mine, from a -sprained ankle to a toothache, the principle being that, whatever might -be amiss, Gregory’s Powder, by virtue of its villainous taste alone, -must inevitably do good, if not as a medical preparation, then as an -incitement to humility and obedience. This filthy poison I had hitherto -swallowed like a lamb; and been made duly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span> ill in consequence. On that -particular occasion, however, the sight of the tray stirred me as never -before; all the accumulated bile of similar torments in the past surged -up; it was my first experience of “seeing red.” Guided by a righteous -demon of revolt, I seized a stick which stood in a corner at my -elbow—an elaborate concern of hippopotamus-hide with carved ivory top, -which some good-for-nothing uncle had brought from Natal—and therewith -knocked the tray out of her hand and then went for her with such a dash -that she fled out of the room. It happened in the twinkling of an eye. I -knew not how the thing was done; it was plain, now, what people meant -when they said that So-and-so was “not responsible for his actions.” On -mature deliberation I decided, in the very words of the old lady, that -<i>all was for the best</i>. There was an end of Gregory’s Powder. That is -the way to treat grandmothers of this variety. She dared not tackle me; -she was too old and I too tough, being then in the habit of winning most -of the gymnastic prizes at school. As always before, she had tried to -impose upon me by sheer strength of personality, and suddenly, for the -first time, found herself confronted by a new and persuasive -argument—brute force.</p> - -<p>Well! To attack your grandmother with a walking-stick is not polite. On -the other hard, there is no reason why boys should be needlessly -tortured;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span> they suffer quite enough, as it is. If I had not acted as I -did, she would have continued to poison me with the stuff to the end of -her long life. Why suffer, when you can avoid it? And there I leave this -ethical problem. For the rest, in her heart of hearts, she was perhaps -not quite so “surprised and grieved” (a favorite phrase of hers, like “I -sincerely hope and trust”) as she professed to be; so strong was her -family sense that she may well have been charmed with this premature -exhibition of ancestral savagery; maybe she was anxiously waiting for it -to appear, and chose Gregory’s Powder as a kind of test or provocative. -If so, it worked. One thing is certain: referring to the episode, she -told another of those old women, who repeated it to me long afterwards, -that I was plainly the son of my father—good news, so far as it -went....</p> - -<p>Phantoms!</p> - -<p>Meanwhile we wandered along that ancient track towards the sunset, with -the spacious Ill valley at our feet, and on its further side, the -Rhætikon peaks which had grown more imposing in proportion as we -ourselves had mounted upwards. On these slopes they were gathering the -cherries with ladders; diminutive fruit on enormous trees. Here are also -wild maples, those pleasant Alpine growths that clamber down from their -homes overhead and indulge in a tasteful habit of clothing trunk and -branches in a ves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span>ture of dusky green moss. The wood is so white that it -is used—the nearest approach to ivory—for fashioning the sculptured -images of the Crucified which one sees everywhere. The fairest maple in -the whole district is that which forms a landmark on the path between -Raggal and Ludescherberg; you can see it from the other side of the -Walserthal, three miles off.</p> - -<p>Presently we found ourselves in one of those narrow dells common -hereabouts, dells that run parallel to the main valley, east and west; -they may be due to ice-action in the past. It is curious, in such -places, to observe how the plants select their aspect according to -whether they relish sunshine or not; there are two different floras -growing within twenty yards of each other. Here, on our left, gushes out -a noble spring; it accompanies us, forming a succession of flowery -marshes. They are still there—the bulrushes in the last of its -hill-girdled swamps; this is one of the three places where bulrushes can -be found. Thereafter you pass that peasant’s house, solitary and -prosperous—what winter landscapes must be visible from its -windows!—and enter the wood. Our path, once well trodden, is now hard -to follow. It begins to lose itself——</p> - -<p>Ah, and the old woman’s mania against tobacco; I had nearly forgotten -this. It was sincere, like all<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span> else in her nature, yet incredible in -its intensity. Somewhere about the fifties she ordered a pair of boots -from the local man, under the condition that he was not to smoke while -making them. They arrived. “That man has smoked!” she declared, and -refused to accept them; she knew from their smell that he had broken his -agreement (of course he had). This legend was still current here in the -nineties. Up in Scotland, despite the visitors, she never allowed a -smoking-room to be built. We were not permitted to smoke even in the -grounds. A military cousin, a distinguished man, was told that if he -wished to smoke after dinner he could walk to the end of the drive, and -indulge his low tastes on the main road. My sister used to shoulder her -rod and go “fly-fishing” at the most improbable hours and seasons of the -year, solely in order to be able to enjoy her cigarette in peace.</p> - -<p>She expired in grand style, up there. We were chamois-shooting at Lech, -not far from here,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> when<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span> a message came to the effect that she was -at the point of death. We packed up and rushed to the Highlands, losing -a whole day at Calais because the boats could not run on account of a -storm. On our arrival, the doctor said, “She ought to have been dead -four days ago.” None the less, she had made up her mind not to depart -till everything was in order. She went through her will, clause by -clause. Was there any objection to this or that? Had she done the right -thing by So-and-so? Or had she perhaps forgotten anything? It was all in -perfect order, we assured her. She gave us a fine old-fashioned -blessing, and was dead a few hours later....</p> - -<p>And now we were threading our way through a veritable tangle, a -branch-charmed tangle, and the light overhead grew dimmer. A golden -suspense was brooding over the forest. How sweet, how <i>intimate</i>, are -these hours of late afternoon under the trees, when all is voiceless and -drowned in mellow radiance; how they conjure up sensations of -other-where, and cleanse the miry places of the mind!</p> - -<p>A few years hence, and every trace of this old path will have vanished. -It ended, for us, in a kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span> of gulley; the gulley ended in the new road -lower down. And where did the new road end?</p> - -<p>Where else, but at Tiefis?</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>The mention of Llandudno reminds me that I may have been unfair to that -old grandmother. For I knew full well that she detested places like -Llandudno or Clifton or Cheltenham, and yet she would take us there for -the Easter holidays at our own request, in order that we might gratify a -taste for fossils; which is surely to her credit. Not every grandmother -would have made such a sacrifice for two objectionable boys. As a -set-off to this, however, I must record that she used to make me play -Wagner to her, much against my will—an inexplicably modern trait of -hers, this love of Wagner, and all the more singular since he, at that -time, was accounted a dangerous lunatic. (Perhaps she only asked me to -play because at such moments, at least, I could not be up to any other -devilry.) She also insisted on our both reading “Marmion” aloud; partly -because it was her dear dead husband’s favorite poem, and partly on -account of a family legend to the effect that certain of its cantos were -composed on our property. Can that have improved its flavor?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Marmion” we thought dreadful rot. To revenge ourselves, we made a farce -of these recitals, by going through the lines in a toneless voice and -laying stress not where the poet and common sense meant it to lie, but -on that precise syllable where, by the structure of the verse, it came -to lie; let any one read a page of “Marmion” according to this recipe, -and note the rich and unforeseen results! It was only by a miracle that -we managed to keep our countenance; or rather, not by a miracle at all, -but by a systematic education in the art of “not exploding.” The old -lady writhed and squirmed under this outrage upon her divine Sir Walter, -but said never a word; gulping down her discomfort with the same air of -dour determination with which, at dinner, and solely to set us a good -example, she gulped down indigestible fragments of plum-pudding, -roly-poly and other hyperborean horrors glistening with suet, although -well aware that such things are not fit for human consumption. Of course -we were obliged to gulp them down too, with this difference, that she -had Madeira and port to wash the taste out of her mouth, while we only -got claret, which made it worse. What a life!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="RAIN" id="RAIN"></a>RAIN</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Rain</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">R</span>AIN once more....</p> - -<p>“Now this is the <i>comble</i>,” said Mr. R. this morning, entering my room -with a pair of boots in his hand.</p> - -<p>“What’s up?”</p> - -<p>“Look!”</p> - -<p>They had inserted new laces, without having been asked to do anything of -the kind.</p> - -<p>Every day, and all day long, similar little experiences are thrust upon -him; he has lived in a state of chronic amazement since his arrival. -That is not surprising. His acquaintance with the life of taverns has -been confined to those of Italy and of France; the unpunctuality and -brawling of the one, the miserliness and thinly veiled insolence of the -other—the general discomfort of both. “Nobody will believe me,” he -says, “when I tell them how one lives in these villages. Fortunately I -have my diary.”</p> - -<p>Our bill of fare has varied with every meal; only once were they obliged -to apologize for giving us the same meat, venison, on two days running, -and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span> even then it was prepared differently. With the exception of -<i>Hasenpfeffer</i>—close season for hares till 1st of September—we have -gone through that entire list of local delicacies, and thereto added -several more.</p> - -<p>These people really make one feel at home. There is an all-pervading -sense of peace and plenty, of comfort, in a word; not discomfort. -Everything is in order, and the place so clean that you could dine on -the floors. The household works like a well-oiled machine—if you can -imagine a machine that wears throughout its parts a perennial smile. -Kindliness is the tone of this house; of the whole village; of all these -villages. It does one good to live among such folk. It is doing Mr. R. -more good than he imagines. He begins to realize what is hard to realize -in Mediterranean countries: that men can be affable and ample, and yet -nowise simpletons. Match-boxes given away gratis; beefsteaks that you -cannot possibly finish; four vegetables to every course of meat; -electric lights burning night and day; fresh towels all the time; apples -and pears thrown to the pigs; mountains of butter and lakes of honey for -breakfast—in fact, a system of wanton <i>gaspillage</i> that would send a -French house-wife into epileptics. All this, I tell him, is the merest -shadow of what was. And among the numerous visitors to our inn there is -never a harsh word; no sullenness, no raised voices,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span> no complaints. We -hear the house door being shut down below, every night, amid cheery talk -and laughter.</p> - -<p>Yet three out of five village taverns are closed—disastrous symptom, -among so convivial a people. The depreciation of the currency.... There -are men, respectable men, who have not tasted a drop of wine for the -last year, which is a shameful state of affairs. Only factory hands and -such-like can afford to pay the present price of 8000 kronen for half a -liter. Less than that sum, namely 7000, was what our tailor gave for his -two-storied house with a garden and field. We watched a pig-auction the -other day (where else, but at Tiefis?). A young one, weighing about -seventy pounds, went for 610,000 kronen. In olden days, they would have -made you a present of him.</p> - -<p>The peasants are particularly hard hit this year. Our valley has always -been celebrated for its fertility, the result of age-long tillage and -manuring, and whoever walks to-day about those cultivated fields, -ignorant of their normal condition, might think that these crops of hay, -wheat, maize, tobacco (every one may plant his own tobacco; the trouble -begins, when you try to make it smokable), beans, hemp, flax, potatoes, -cabbage, beetroot, poppies, pumpkins and what not, look sufficiently -thriving. That is a mistake. The fruit-harvest promises well; these -fields<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span> are in a bad way. The <i>Engerlinge</i>, the larvæ of the cockchafer, -have been unusually active of late. This miserable worm which lives -underground, gnawing away the roots, had hitherto been kept in its place -by the moles. But during the war and afterwards moles were destroyed as -never before, for the sake of their skins. A mole eats one and a half -times its own weight every day; he prefers the <i>Engerlinge</i> to all other -food. So the larvæ now thrive, because the war was responsible for the -death of the moles. One result of the war, so far as this little -economic byway is concerned.</p> - -<p>Other results. A favorite method of preventing damage by <i>Engerlinge</i> is -to kill the cockchafer itself. They used to be murdered by myriads, -either while flying about at night, or in the early morning when they -cling, weary and drunk with dew, to the trees. Boys would do this for a -trifling sum, or for the fun of the thing. They are too busy nowadays; -they must do the work of those who were killed. And of those who have -free time on their hands, the decent ones refuse the job because they -are ashamed to ask the prices now ruling (and their fathers will not let -them take less); the others demand so much that the peasant cannot pay -them. Our village elders have done their best to face the mischief. They -have decided that every land-owner must bring in a certain measure of -cockchafers or deposit a certain sum of money;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span> whoever collects more -than this stipulated measure, is paid extra out of the sum deposited by -the others; whoever fails to come up to the standard, is fined in -proportion. The provincial government has also forbidden the destruction -of moles, and to-day’s paper, now lying before me, contains an eloquent -article entitled “Spare the moles!”</p> - -<p>It is too late. The village of Bratz (=<i>pratum</i>), for example, is so -sorely tried by the plague of these larvæ that a rich peasant owning, -let us say, six cows, will not be able to cut enough fodder to keep them -alive through the winter; his crop of hay is too impoverished. What -shall he do? He is in the dilemma of seeing a couple of his beasts -perish from starvation, or of selling them at their present value, -although fully aware that by the time spring comes round and fodder is -again plentiful, he will not be able, with the same amount of money, to -purchase even a quarter of a cow to eat his grass; so rapid is the -depreciation of the currency.</p> - -<p>In this and other matters the peasantry, the backbone of the province, -is being systematically ruined. The blow was undeserved. They were -dragged into this tragic farce through no fault of their own, and are -now paying for the folly of others. True, they revenge themselves on the -rich factory hands and bureaucrats; they charge fantastic prices for -milk and other agricultural products. The others retaliate by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span> burning -their hay-huts. There was a good deal of incendiarism in the Bludenz -district last winter. Mutual ill-will is the result. And their so-called -betters, the <i>rentiers</i> who, after a life of drudgery in office or -elsewhere, laid aside sufficient money to build themselves a house -wherein to end their days, are in still more pitiable plight. Such is -the case of an old gentleman of my acquaintance at Bludenz, who had -worked from the age of fourteen till after seventy, and had been able to -acquire what seemed a considerable fortune. What are even a million -kronen to-day? And how is he to earn more, at the age of eighty-six?</p> - -<p>Industrial workmen, no doubt, are doing uncommonly well; that English -eight hours’ nonsense fosters their pretensions, and as often as they -consider their pay insufficient, they go on strike and obtain more. The -bureaucrats also thrive in a lesser degree. There is an employee to -every five men in this country; a scandalous plethora, but who would not -be an employee—one of the few careers whereby a native, under existing -circumstances, may hope to escape starvation? So do we foreigners. For -apartments, lighting, laundry, repairs to clothes and boots, food which -for excellence and variety would be unprocurable, pay what you please, -in any English village five times the size of this one, for as much -wine, beer, <i>schnapps</i> and cider as we can hold we pay<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span> a sum which -works out, for both together, at three shillings a day. This includes an -additional 10 per cent on the total, which I insist upon paying for -service, though it cost some little argument before I could make them -accept it. Such are the results of the “Valuta,” so far as Englishmen -are concerned.</p> - -<p>Valuta: that is one of three words which you may now for the first time -hear repeated from mouth to mouth. The other two are “Anschluss” and -“Miliz.” These matters have been adequately discussed in our own Press; -I will only say, as regards the last of them, that no government, -however wise and well-intentioned, can enforce its wishes if you take -away its means of doing so: a militia. One does not expect high-priced -inter-allied experts to be equipped with either sympathy or imagination; -that would be asking too much. They should, at least, possess a little -common sense and knowledge of history. Western Europe, scared to death -of bolshevism in Russia, is busily engaged in manufacturing it -elsewhere; and if this once gentlemanly province now exhales, as does -the rest of the country, a strong reek of communistic fumes, it is our -experts who are to blame. Ah, well! When the broth is boiling, the scum -invariably rises to the top and stays there, until some businesslike -<i>chef</i> comes along, to cream off this filthy product and throw it down -the drain.</p> - -<p>Valuta: wondrous are its workings. There is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span> hardly an ounce of butter -procurable in Bludenz, which is enclosed in grazing grounds. Where has -it all gone? Over the mountains, into Switzerland. Valuta! Your Austrian -smuggler is delighted; he receives five times the price he would get if -he sold the stuff in his own country, and in Swiss money too, which may -have doubled in worth by the time he reaches home again. Your Swiss -buyer is delighted; he pays less than half the price he would have to -pay for his own product. The local poor suffer, meanwhile, especially -the children; for the nutritive value of butter, in the shape of -<i>Schmalz</i>, is great, and this condiment used to figure in all their -principal dishes, and would be doubly needful now that meat is quite -beyond their reach. Altogether, these children—a shadow seems to have -passed over them, witnessing the distresses of their parents. They are -paler than they used to be, and graver of mien; far too many are -insufficiently clad and unshod. An Englishman might think ten shillings -a reasonable price for a pair of sound children’s boots; the native -cannot afford 110,000 kronen, a sum for which formerly he could have -bought half a village. Even the post-boy, a lively youngster who happens -to be a grandson of that old gardener of ours, presents himself up here -every morning without shoes or stockings. He has none.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span></p> - -<p>I glance, for further informative matter, down the columns of that paper -which bids us “Spare the moles!” and observe that it contains, among its -advertisements, an offer by a furrier of two hundred kronen for each -moleskin brought to him. This does not sound as if the provincial -government’s decree were being enforced very drastically. The same -gentleman is ready to pay exactly a thousand times as much for the skin -of pine martens, which can be worth little enough at this warm season of -the year. The animal is of the greatest scarcity in our -neighborhood.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> - -<p>And here is a final, thrilling item. The midwives of Feldkirch, -assembled in conclave, have regretfully decided that the charges for -attendance are to be doubled in future.</p> - -<p>Midwives, I suspect, are not the only professional ladies who have -lately been obliged to raise their tariff.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></p> - -<p>Towards nightfall, a gleam of sunshine after the rain. Out for a stroll, -after dinner....</p> - -<p>They have anointed our boots with badger’s fat, in case we traverse any -wet fields. We are only going along the main road towards Ludesch. That -bench on the old Lutz embankment—that bench invariably occupied by a -poor hump-backed woman reading—is sure to be empty at this hour.</p> - -<p>It is. We sit down to smoke under the dripping firs, and I go -ghost-hunting all alone, in the dark. The memories that are crowded into -these few hundred yards! They spring up at my feet, from the damp forest -earth. There was once a battle on this site, a sanguinary battle between -two rival gypsy bands who used it for their camping ground and -accidentally arrived both on the same evening; each claimed it for his -own, and several men were killed before the matter was decided; our -people were talking about the fray years afterwards. Further on, past -the bridge, I murdered the first snake of many and found my first piece -of phosphorescent wood. Here, too, stands the rifle-range which is -connected with one of six clear memories of my father; he used to come -out of the place adorned with paper decorations for his marksmanship and -they even hung up a framed diploma of honor to him; the building was -sacked two years ago by some local revolutionaries who disapproved of -shooting in every<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span> form and carried off the diploma, but forgot to -efface its mark on the wall where it had hung for fifty years.</p> - -<p>Nearly opposite to where we are sitting is a deep incline of grass—I -take it to be the bank of the prehistoric Lutz; my father once made me -rush up and down this terrific slope in preparation, no doubt, for -mountaineering. The quarry close by, in which one hunted vainly for -crystals (it is Eocene, and has nothing but spar) is still there, but -those mysterious black hillocks by the roadside with their unforgettable -smell, where the charcoal-burners plied their trade, are gone and a -thriving house and orchard have stepped into their place. The Madonna -shrine, further on, is quite unchanged; here the old Anna used to lift -me up to gaze at the Mother of God standing, as She does to this day, -upon an earth girt about by the green Serpent of Evil. At the back of -our bench there used to be a deep, square hole in the ground. My sister -and I once informed a newly arrived German governess that it was a -disused elephant trap. She said nothing but, on returning home, -complained bitterly of our untruthful habits. That plantation of young -trees across the road was once a bare, thistle-strewn heath, a <i>Haide</i>, -the sole locality where, year after year, one could catch white -admirals. So there were just two well-known places where you might rely -upon a scarlet tiger, and neither<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span> more nor less than three, where there -was a chance of seeing, though probably not of catching, a -<i>Trauermantel</i> (Camberwell beauty). Butterflies were dropped, when -stones began.</p> - -<p>And all this time Mr. R. has had nothing whatever to say. He has grown -rather silent of late, his superciliousness begins to evaporate: that -augurs well! My theory works—I have observed it for some time past; my -theory of the benign influence of woodland scenery upon the character of -youth. How much more inspiring to live in such a pastoral and sylvan -environment than on the pavements of a town! Instead of troubling about -theaters and girls, his mind may well be occupied with some small -literary or social problem that befits his age; why Racine went back to -antiquity for the subjects of his tragedies, or whether Ronsard really -deserves all the praises bestowed upon him. That is as it should be! At -last I enquire:</p> - -<p>“What have you been dreaming about, this last half hour?”</p> - -<p>“Dreaming? Not at all. I have been thinking very seriously.”</p> - -<p>“What about?”</p> - -<p>“What about? About Goethe’s ‘Hermann and Dorothea.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>“Ah! I thought so. You are getting on famously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span> Now, to begin with: -where did you become acquainted with that masterpiece?”</p> - -<p>“In a French translation, last Christmas. And I was just thinking how -true it is, what the mother tells Hermann—when he is in love, you -know—you remember?—about the night growing to be the better part of -day——”</p> - -<p>“Say no more. You are indulging certain thoughts about Tiefis.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? Perfectly proper ones.”</p> - -<p>“I might have expected this. Very well. It is a little late to-night, -but I suppose we shall have to go there to-morrow. I only hope you share -Hermann’s exalted sentiments and his purity of heart. Because otherwise, -you understand, I could never be an accomplice to such an affair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="ANTS" id="ANTS"></a>ANTS</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Ants</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HAT was a monster of an ant-hill. It was the largest, by far the -largest, I ever saw in this country, and the floor of the forest all -around was twinkling with these priggish insects. Anxious to have some -idea of its true size and anxious, at the same time, not to have any of -the nuisances crawling up my own legs, I made Mr. R. pace its -circumference. It took him <i>sixteen</i> good strides. And there they were, -myriads upon myriads of them, hiving up for their own selfish purpose -those dried fir-needles which, left alone, would have yielded a rich -soil to future generations of men.</p> - -<p>I have no use for ants, and cannot regard an ant-heap without yearning -to stamp it flat (those made of earth are not difficult to treat in this -fashion); without regretting that I lack the tongue and tastes of an -anteater. And only in the tropics do you realize what a diabolical pest -they may become with their orderly habits; European ants being mere -amateurs in obnoxiousness. To do everything you are supposed to do, and -nothing else at all; never to make a mistake, or, if you do, to be -invariably punished for it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span> in exact proportion to the offense: can -there be a more contemptible state of affairs? That is why, even as a -boy, I used to foster the independent little fellows called <i>myrmeleon</i> -(ant-lion) who built their artful, funnel-shaped traps in the dry sand -out of reach of showers, just where our house-walls touched the ground; -foster them, and visit them periodically, and feed them with these -insufferable communists till they were ready to burst. But oh, to be an -authentic anteater on a Gargantuan scale—omnipresent, insatiable of -appetite—and engulf that entire tribe of automata!</p> - -<p>One of my countless grievances against the ant family is that a clever -person, long ago, told me that, in order to have the flesh properly -removed from the skull of any bird or beast, you have only to lay it in -an ant-hill; the insects would do the job to a turn and thank you, into -the bargain, for allowing them to do it; work of this kind, he declared, -was quite a specialty of their department. Accordingly, I once deposited -an extremely valuable relic in the center of a prosperous ant-colony, -expecting to find it ready for me, picked clean, after a due lapse of -time. On arriving to call for my property, however, a fortnight or so -later, I was surprised to find it gone; the methodical socialists had -mislaid it, and I never saw it again. One took such losses to heart in -those days. I therefore went all the way home once more, deter<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span>mined to -get my own job done more conscientiously than theirs, and fetched a rake -wherewith this slovenly establishment was leveled to the ground. But oh, -for a rake that would rake every ant-hill off the face of the earth!</p> - -<p>That happened in my bird-killing period, when I used to get up at the -improbable hour of 3:30 a.m. and, putting in my <i>Rucksack</i> some bread -and smoked bacon-fat and a flask of Kirsch, vanish into the wilds, -returning home any time after nightfall or not at all: judge if I saw -some ant-hills! So I roved about, and the first thing I ever murdered, -an hour after receiving that single-barreled gun, was a melancholy brown -owl that blinked at me from its perch below the Bährenloch at Bludenz; -the slaughter of this charming bird was taken as a good omen. Soon came -other guns, and other birds, not all of which shared the fate of the -owl. Never shall I forget a certain pratincole. It was the only one I -have yet seen in this province, a great rarity, and it settled down for -a whole summer season in the reservoir region along the upper Montiola -brook, where it relied upon its disconcerting flight and a trick of -rising from the ground at the one and only spot where you could not -possibly expect it to do so, to mock all my attempts at bringing it -down. I was after it so often that we got to know each other perfectly -well, and never bagged it; thereby proving the truth of the local -proverb<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span> “Every day is hunting day, but not every day is catching day.” -Queer experiences one had, too. At the age of fourteen I was once -resting on my homeward way in the woods near Gasünd, dead tired but -uncommonly pleased with myself for having just shot a hazel -grouse—again, the only one I ever saw in the province. There came one -of those flocks of titmice—is not titmouses the correct -English?—accompanied, no doubt, by the inevitable tree-creeper. They -amused themselves in the branches overhead and one of them soon struck -me as unfamiliar; its size and shape and movements were those of a great -tit, but there were unmistakable red feathers on the head and neck. I -watched it hopping from twig to twig, annoyed to think that I had shot -away my last cartridge, and wondering what this rare mountain bird could -be, for I never doubted of its actuality; there it was, before my eyes! -Only later did I learn that no such bird exists. Now had the vision been -brought about by my state of bodily exhaustion? And was the dream-bird -created out of one of those present, or out of nothing at all? Illusion, -or hallucination?</p> - -<p>Presently certain regions became famous for certain game; in that larch -wood between Bürs and Bürserberg, for instance, which takes on such -wonderful tints in autumn and which you can enter through a natural arch -called the “Kuhloch,” you might count on crossbills and on a woodpecker -of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span> one kind or another (never on the scarce black one; it haunts the -gloomiest forests). Of the lesser spotted species I shot two off the -same tree at an interval of almost exactly a year—30 December in one -year, and 28 December the next; a circumstance all the more singular, as -I never in my life met with another individual of this bird in the whole -country. Or, if you wanted a great gray shrike, you had only to go, -preferably in winter, to the Scesa-tobel, that devastated tract west of -Bürs which was just then beginning to cover itself with vegetation once -more. Here you might also put up a hare; it was in the Scesa-tobel, by -the purest of accidents, that I once shot a hare in full gallop at a -distance of a hundred yards—a mere speck, he was—with a bullet. I -confessed afterwards to Mattli, who was beating another part of this -torrent, that I had missed him at close quarters with the shot barrel, -and soon regretted having made this confession; there are things one -might well keep to oneself.</p> - -<p>Mattli, whatever his real name may have been, was often with me on such -excursions, and I know not how he managed to combine these trips with -his official duties as station-master; for station-master he was, at our -own station, which was then called Strassenhaus. To be sure, one could -take things easier in those days (the building itself was less than half -its present size); so easy, that the man who was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span> employed to guard the -line a quarter of a mile lower down, used to put up, for several -consecutive years, a dummy figure of himself standing upright beside his -cabin in the wood, in order to make the night-train people think he was -at his post, while he went to booze in a tavern at Ludesch. Yet Mattli’s -weakness must have been found out in the end; the last time I saw him, -he was degraded from his high rank and working in some subordinate -capacity at Bludenz station.</p> - -<p>Mattli never felt comfortable unless tracking birds; and his tales of -how he shot a great white heron here and a bee-eater there, and -something else somewhere else, were enough to make any one’s mouth -water. He took me in hand, during those lean and hungry years; what the -<i>Brunnenmacher</i> had done towards fostering my instincts for climbing, -Mattli did for the more destructive ones; and a greater contrast was -never seen than between these two early mentors of mine. The -<i>Brunnenmacher</i> was short and fat and bearded and fair-haired and -laughing, like many of them hereabouts; Mattli would have struck you at -the first glance as something apart from his fellows, something -primordial. He towered above the average height, he stooped from sheer -tallness; the very scarecrow of a man, dusky, clean-shaven, sallow of -complexion, with a harassed and hunted look in his eye and a voice that -seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span> come from caverns far away. A lonely, wolfish creature! I -never saw him smile. His rarer birds he sold to Mr. Honstetter, the -taxidermist of Bregenz, who doubtless disposed of them elsewhere and -through whose hands passed nearly every curiosity—lämmergeier, eider -duck, cormorant, griffon vulture and what not—which had been obtained -in the province or even further afield. He once offered me the skull and -horns of a genuine Swiss ibex, and a beaver stuffed by himself which had -been killed on the Elbe on the 10 August, 1886; he wanted 175 Swiss -francs for this last. The only thing I ever bought there was the skin of -an <i>ibis falcinellus</i> shot at Hard on the Lake of Constance; it cost me -two and a half florins.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p> - -<p>Bregenz, however, seldom kept me for more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span> half a day, since I -preferred chasing birds to seeing them stuffed. So I scoured these upper -regions over field and forest and rock, covering immeasurable distances -and never following a path unless obliged to do so, up to the snow-line -and down again, sleeping in hay-huts or remote villages; and judge if I -saw some ant-hills by the way; ant-hills in every possible situation; -the strangest, after all, being those of dry sand, fetched from God -knows where and transported God knows how, and reared-up, -Amsterdam-wise, in the middle of watery marshes.</p> - -<p>And that particular one, which has led me into this digression—where -was it?</p> - -<p>Where else, but near Tiefis?</p> - -<p>For it stands to reason that we went to that village again, after our -nocturnal conversation on the Lutz embankment, in order to visit what -Mr. R. calls “the innkeepress and his beautiful girl.”</p> - -<p>There we sat, all four of us, in that spotlessly clean room, and my -companion after consuming his usual horrible mixture—two boiled eggs -and a glass of <i>saft</i> (a strong kind of cider, of greenish -tinge)—straightway opened a fusillade of glances from his flashing -black eyes, to which the “baby,” so far as I could see, was not -insensible.</p> - -<p>Her mother, meanwhile, told me what she had heard about the cause of -that outbreak of fire which destroyed nearly all the place in 1866. It -seems that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span> a party were sitting up one night, as is the custom, beside -the dead body of some friend who had expired during the day and, as is -also the custom under these mournful circumstances, began to think of -refreshing themselves with coffee. There was no milk in the house and it -was decided to go into the stable and milk the cow; some straw -accidentally took fire from the candle they carried; this started the -mischief. Several people were burnt to death on that occasion. A second -fire took place in 1868. She said there were only two or three of the -old houses left; one of them bearing the date 1678——</p> - -<p>“What is she talking about?” enquired Mr. R.</p> - -<p>“About a fire they had here.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you two argue outside? And before you go just tell me the German -for <i>embrassez-moi</i>, will you?”</p> - -<p>“How can I tell you, with the mother in the room?”</p> - -<p>“Then get her out. Talk to her about wine, in the cellar or somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“Easier said than done. I think she has intercepted your wireless -symbols. They are visible to the naked eye. One could almost catch them -in a butterfly net.”</p> - -<p>“Do you suggest that I was winking, or trying to make eyes?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, quite involuntarily.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>For one moment, it looked as if his wish were to be gratified. The -mother rose from her seat and, opening the door, made as though to enter -the kitchen; everything, unfortunately, must have been in order there, -for after two paces in the passage she returned to her place beside me -once more. That fire—yes! Nowadays, of course, the danger of -conflagrations on this scale was growing less and less;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> the villages -were all lighted by electricity, down to the very stables; those -inflammable wooden houses, too, were being supplanted by brick or stone, -“or the abominable cement,” I added——</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, that fusillade proceeded without interruption. The “baby” was -brightening up under its friendly glow, smiling her innocent smile and -sometimes glancing at me as if for confirmation of her pleasure; the -mother talked.</p> - -<p>“Is the old one never going? Because, for the matter of that, I can do -it without saying anything at all; and I will. I would give fifty years -of my life.... Just one kiss. I don’t want anything more.”</p> - -<p>“I should hope not. Listen to me for a moment,” I went on. “Only a -puritan would see any great harm in young people kissing each other, -with or without their parents’ consent; I feel sure that many<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span> happy -marriages would never have come about at all but for some such playful -preliminaries, and your Dorothea, I must say, looks as if she would not -object very violently, provided you did it in a laughing, brotherly -fashion. Why should she? Our girls are far too simple-minded to attach -that sacramental importance to a kiss which the southern ones do. -Observe therefore: I do not pose as a puritan. But please observe also -that I am taking for granted that you are serious, both of you, like -Hermann and Dorothea; otherwise, of course, I could never be a -party——”</p> - -<p>“Get her out. Get her out.”</p> - -<p>“I should like to help you. But you know perfectly well that my -acquaintance with the art of outwitting or circumventing parents is of -the slightest, and that therefore, quite apart from any moral scruples I -might entertain——”</p> - -<p>“Get her out.”</p> - -<p>The “old one” seemed to have taken root. She explained that the -fire-brigades, too, were more efficient than they used to be; every -village had its own apparatus, and fixed drill on certain days, and -fines for those who failed to attend, unless they could show good cause -for their absence, such as having to cart their hay in at a moment’s -notice on account of some threatening thunderstorm——</p> - -<p>At last Mr. R. remarked:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span></p> - -<p>“It is all your fault, for making yourself so infernally polite to her. -I have often noticed that you cannot leave elderly women alone.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me; I make it my business to be civil with everybody, young or -old. For the rest, I should be inclined to blame your marconigrams, -which are enough to scare any mother. I wonder the poor child is not -roasted.”</p> - -<p>“Roasted! Old men are always cynics.”</p> - -<p>“Young men are generally fools.”</p> - -<p>There was that fire at Nüziders as well; how long ago? Fifty years, was -it? Perhaps a little more. A tremendous blaze, from all accounts; far -worse than Tiefis; and the Fön was blowing so fiercely that sparks were -carried right over the Hanging Stone, they said, while people in Ludesch -and Thüringen were kept busy all night throwing water on their wooden -roofs——</p> - -<p>“To oblige me,” interposed Mr. R., “just order another quarter liter of -wine for yourself. I have thought of something; it is my last chance. -She may have to go downstairs to fetch it. If she does, run after her -and say you made a mistake; you want a half. Come back as slowly as -possible. Cough, before you enter the door.”</p> - -<p>The half-liter happened to be on the spot. Decidedly, Mr. R. was having -no luck that day. After a very long visit, we bade farewell and walked -up<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span> past the Bädle inn, Mr. R. complaining grumpily:</p> - -<p>“Now what am I to do?”</p> - -<p>“Well, you might review the situation, like Hermann did. If I were in -your place, I should have no objection to being ultimately connected, by -marriage, with the management of a tavern; the position strikes me as -offering sundry advantages over the common lot of man. So think it over -and, when you have made up your mind for good and all, confide in me and -rest assured that I shall be only too delighted to act as interpreter -between you and the parents, provided, of course, that your intentions -are as honorable as they ought to be.”</p> - -<p>“Is this the time to make fun of me?”</p> - -<p>How sensitive they are, these young people of the guileless variety!</p> - -<p>The path we were now following, from the Tiefis “Bädle” to the source of -the Montiola brook and thence to the reservoirs, is one of my special -favorites. The ground rises slowly, and soon you reach a miniature -watershed; whatever drains off behind you flows down westwards and finds -its way into the “ruisseau des écrevisses”; the Montiola drops towards -the east, at first. Before reaching its source you traverse a wood which -Mr. R. immediately christened “la forêt nordique”; he has never seen -such a forest save in pictures, yet it certainly recalls them to me, -each of the firs resembling its fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span> and all at their most -uninteresting life-period; this tract must have been cut down and -replanted half a century ago, or less.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> - -<p>On issuing from this “forêt nordique” you are already in the Montiola -basin, a luscious dank valley surrounded by wooded heights. Presently, -on your right, at the foot of the hill, you discern the Montiola<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span> -fountain. It is an exuberant spring overhung by firs and beeches; almost -the entire volume of the streamlet rises at this one point, and you will -do well to rest awhile on those mossy stones, as I have done many and -many a time, listening to the glad sound of bubbling waters and letting -your eye roam across the narrow sunlit vale into the woodlands on its -other side. From here the Montiola meanders for half a mile or so, icy -cold and full of trout, through a flowery swamp region towards the -reservoirs, where it takes its theatrical plunge into the village below.</p> - -<p>A distant rocky peak, just to the left of the Hoher Frassen, confronts -you on stepping out of the <i>northern forest</i>. This is the “Rothe Wand” -which, considering its respectable height of 2701 meters, is a decidedly -coy mountain, and more clever at hiding itself than most of them; you -may obtain another clear view of it from the platform of Frastanz -station. It seems incredible that this “Red Wall” which is now climbed -by a hundred tourists every year, should in the days of my father have -been deemed so inaccessible that he thought it worth while to describe -an ascent of it in the transactions of our Alpine Club (1868) in which -he speaks of it as “almost unknown.” The country has indeed changed -since those days, and few pinnacles are left unclimbed; I can mention -one of them, at least, for the benefit of anybody who cares to give it a -trial. This is the so-called “Wildkirchle<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span>” or “Hexenthurm,” a fragment -of the Kanisfluh <i>massif</i> near Mellau, a rock-needle; it has the -apparent advantage of being only 140 meters high. All the same, no one -has yet stood on its summit, though many have tried to do so; only a -couple of weeks ago (23 July, 1922) two young men lost their lives while -attempting the feat. My sister, who was the first woman that ever got up -the Zimba—and well I remember the state of her leather knickers when -she came down again—also had a try at the “Hexenthurm,” a little -exploit of which I only learnt after her death. She and a guide, from -all accounts, were roped together and wound themselves aloft somewhat -after the fashion of a nigger climbing a cocoa-palm (I cannot quite -visualize the operation); at a certain moment they were only too happy -to be able to wind themselves down again.</p> - -<p>These were the sports she loved; and I marvel to this hour what made her -adopt the married state—she who cared no more for the joys of -domesticity than does a tomcat. Talked into it, I fancy, by some stupid -relation who ought to have known better.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>While strolling homewards from that Montiola fountain hallowed by many -memories of my past, I took to relating to my companion all I knew -concerning my father’s fatal accident, which occurred as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span> was chamois -shooting not far from the Rothe Wand; he fell down a ghastly precipice. -Forthwith Mr. R., who has an imaginative and impressionable turn of -mind, besought me to take him up there and show him the exact site on -the condition, of course, that nothing but English was to be spoken -during the trip. Well, why not? No harm in that, no harm whatever; the -excursion may distract him, and he has so far seen nothing of these -upper Alpine regions. I would gladly go there over the Spuller lake, but -cannot bear to see the place again in its changed condition; for this -fair sheet of water is now being mauled about by a legion of navvies for -the purpose of some miserable railway electrification. Instead of that, -we can take the train to Dalaas and mount to the Formarin lake, which -lies even nearer to the scene of the accident.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="GAMSBODEN" id="GAMSBODEN"></a>GAMSBODEN</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Gamsboden</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HERE is nothing to tell of our walk to the Formarin lake which lies -under the precipitous red crags (a kind of marble called <i>Adneter Kalk</i>) -of the Rothe Wand and thence to the summit of the grass-topped -Formaletsch—nothing, save that the Alpine flowers, not so much the -rhododendrons<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> as the yellow violets, were a source of considerable -interest to my companion. I could have shown him the scarcer Edelraute -(<i>Artemisia mutellina</i>) which grows on some rocks near the east foot of -that hill, but preferred taking no risks and did not so much as mention -the plant. Here, also, he was able to inspect a flourishing colony of -marmots, a quadruped which, in spite of my assurances to the contrary, -he had hitherto been disposed to regard as mythological or imaginary.</p> - -<p>I chose the Formaletsch because it is from thence—from its southern -base; but Mr. R. rightly insisted on going to the top—that, with the -help of a good glass, a distant but clear view can be obtained of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span> -scene of my father’s accident while chamois shooting. It occurred, when -he was only thirty-six years old, at the Gamsboden heights, so-called -from the frequency of chamois to be found there; the place is about a -mile off as the crow flies, and on one of its pinnacles you may detect a -wooden cross which is perennially renewed by chamois hunters in memory -of him; it stands as near to the actual site as most people would care -to go. He had just returned from an ascent of the Gross Litzner (or -Gross Seehorn)—the second time this peak had ever been climbed (the -first was in 1869), and the thing must have happened soon after 7 -September, 1874, for that is the date of his last letter to his wife, in -which he says: “I shall go shooting for a few days to Spuller and -Formarin” (Gamsboden lies midway between these two lakes); “if I delay, -I may not be able to traverse any longer the upper grounds, because snow -falls there so often and so early.” Now hard by that wooden cross is a -black precipice which scars the mountain from top to bottom; this is the -spot; he fell while attempting to cross the scar, or else, while -standing immediately above it on some soil which gave way under his -weight; the former is probably the truth. I enquired, but have never -heard of any one else essaying the same feat; for my own part, nothing -would induce me to proceed more than a couple of yards on that -particular surface. For even at our distance of a mile you may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span> guess -what it consists of: it is the foul sooty shale called <i>Algäu-Schiefer</i>, -perfidious and friable stuff, not to be called rock at all save in the -geological sense of the word.</p> - -<p>Slopes covered by ice or snow have their dangers, so have those decked -with the innocent-looking dry grass which, for reasons I cannot explain, -is so abhorrent to me that I will make any detour to avoid them; all -three of these can be tackled by firm feet and the help of an ax-head as -grapnel or for step-cutting. Nothing is to be done, either with feet or -with artificial appliances, on an even moderate incline of such Liassic -shale, for it yields to pressure and slides down, and this is where a -chamois has the advantage over us. A man may scramble about honest crags -like a fly on a wall, as securely as any chamois though not so fast; on -precipices of the crumbling <i>Algäu-Schiefer</i> the animal leaps, and leaps -again before the stuff has gathered momentum, and what shall man do? -Avoid them, until he has acquired the capacity of bouncing like a -chamois; in other words, like an indiarubber ball.</p> - -<p>Indeed, shifting material of every kind is objectionable and fraught -with peculiar horrors. Up behind Bludenz you may see a row of limestone -cliffs called Elser Schröfen, whose foot is defended by a “talus” of -rubble which has slowly dropped down from the heights above; and a -pretty thing it is, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span> the way, when you look closely at natural -features like this talus, to observe with what flawless accuracy they -have been constructed; how these fragments of detritus pass in due order -through all gradations of size down the slanting surface, from minute -particles like sand at the top to the mighty blocks that form their -base. Once, long ago, I conceived the playful project of crossing this -rubble-slope from end to end, just below the cliffs. I started on its -inclined plane, but had not gone far before realizing the situation. The -talus reposed, as it naturally would repose if left to accumulate -undisturbed; that is, at the sharpest allowable angle against the -cliffs, its upper barrier. It soon struck me as being rather a steep -gradient, and not only steep but ominously alive—ready to gallop -downhill on a hint from myself; the mere weight of my body could set the -whole mass in movement and hurl me along in a rocky flood. While making -this sweet reflection I found, with dismay, that it was already too late -to turn back; the least additional pressure on one foot might start the -mischief; once started, nothing would arrest that deluge; its beginning, -without a doubt, was going to be my end.</p> - -<p>I was in for a ticklish business. Rush down the slope diagonally and -evoke the landslide but anticipate its arrival? Even that was courting -disaster. I preferred to remain in the upper regions and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span> finished -the long journey, with curious deliberation, on all fours, in order to -distribute my weight; and then only by a miracle. It was one of those -occasions on which one has ample leisure to look into the eye of death, -and I now wish somebody could have taken a photograph of me—a colored -one, by preference; one would like to possess a record of the exact tint -of one’s complexion during half hours of this kind. Whoso, therefore, -intends to traverse the same place would be well-advised to adopt my -method of locomotion; the upright posture is not to be recommended. A -pleasant farewell to all things! Never a button of you to be seen again; -to be caught in a swirl, a deafening cataract of stones and, after -snatching <i>en passant</i> a few grains of scientific comfort at the thought -that your human interference had modified—if only temporarily—the -angle of a talus, which is not everybody’s affair, to be buried alive at -the bottom under an imposing heap of débris.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> ...</p> - -<p>Now boys seem to make a point of doing risky things, whereas a man of my -father’s age and experi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span>ence should have made a point of not doing them. -What can have induced him to act as he did? He was well acquainted with -this particular shale; in that very paper on the Rothe Wand which is the -origin of our trip to Formarin, he remarks that the only troublesome -part of the ascent was a steep tract of the “soft, crumbling, blackish -<i>Algäu-Schiefer</i>, which continually slipped away under our feet,” adding -that “for the rest, no part of the climb could be called dangerous or -even difficult.” (The present route up there is another and really easy -one.) Was it downright bravura? That is not impossible! He had led an -enchanted life among the rocks and ice, and a friend of his, an old -gentleman whom I saw the other day in Bludenz and who was with him once -or twice in the mountains, spoke to me of his contempt of danger; he -said that while climbing he “seemed to tread on air” and could not be -made to understand what people meant by giddiness. Or was he stalking -some particular chamois? In that case the tragedy grows almost -intelligible; there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span> few things a man will not do under those -circumstances.</p> - -<p>Two others accompanied him on this expedition, Dr. Dürr of Satteins and -his own <i>Jaeger</i> Fetzel, a native of our village; both have died long -since and neither, I believe, was actual eye-witness of what happened at -the fatal moment. Many journalistic cuttings and letters relative to -this affair, and doubtless giving adequate accounts, were contained in -that bundle which disappeared together with other literary and family -papers when a certain portmanteau was broken open on its journey; it is -a loss I shall never cease to deplore. The ground is supposed to have -given way under him; certain it is that he fell from the height, as we -were then told, of <i>many, many church steeples</i>—a phrase that stuck in -my mind; from the height, I should reckon, of some thousand feet. There -was nothing about him that was not shattered; his gun, his watch, were -broken into fragments. Strangest of all, even his alpenstock was picked -up in several pieces, which gave rise to the conjecture that this -implement had betrayed him and snapped under his weight as he leaned on -it for support; how else explain the splintering of such light and -resilient material? Be that as it may, they carried his remains to -Dalaas down the steep and savage Radona-tobel, and anybody who has been -there will wonder how they achieved this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span> task.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> He was laid to rest -in the Protestant cemetery of Feldkirch; for the first time in history -the bells of all the countryside were tolled at the funeral of a -“Lutheran”....</p> - -<p>His article on the Rothe Wand is one of several which he contributed to -the Journal of our Alpine Club; they can be traced in the files, -together with his presidential addresses to the Vorarlberg section, of -which I also possess four; one of the most interesting of these papers -describes an ascent of the Piz Linard (3416 meters) and Piz Buin and the -crossing of the Silvretta and Sagliain glaciers, the latter of which had -never been traversed before; it presented <i>no difficulty</i>. These -writings betray a strong love of nature, and all the exhilaration -consequent upon “living dangerously.” He was also interested in the -scientific aspects of alpinism, as I can see from his marginal -annotations to Forbes’ “Theory of Glaciers.”</p> - -<p>More important are two archæological monographs which reveal another -facet of his mind; I wish I knew whether he wrote any other such things -and where they are to be found; does the library at Bregenz perhaps -contain them? The first one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span> (1865, with two diagrams) deals with his -excavations on a strangely shaped eminence near Mauren—a village in -Liechtenstein, just across our frontier—which he held to be a Celtic -hill-fort; his surmise was proved correct by the discovery of certain -bronze relics. The other treats of the Roman occupation of this -province.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> It is in the shape of an address to the Museum Society of -Bregenz with which he was connected; an exhaustive and conscientiously -written memoir, full of ripe speculations of his own, enriched with -copious footnotes and citations from those authorities, ancient or -modern, who had hitherto touched upon these matters; and defining all -remains of antiquity excavated here up to that day (some noteworthy new -finds have since been incorporated into the Bregenz Museum). It has -given me a feeling difficult to describe, to go through this paper -again; I seem to be reading my own lucubrations, for at the same time of -life I was writing in the same style on subjects of the same kind; a -scholarly digression, for instance, on the Roman roads of the district, -<i>no trace of which exists</i>, is done quite in my manner of that period. I -observe that he contradistinguishes between Celts and Rhætians (p. 6 -and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span> note to p. 10);<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> that he takes Lindau, and not either of the -other two islands, to have been the one occupied by Tiberius; and holds -the <i>Vallis Drusiana</i>, the Walgau, the heart of our province, to be -called not after the Roman general and stepson of Augustus, seeing that -the name Druso is of Celtic or Rhætian</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/img-152.jpg"> -<img src="images/img-152.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Bronze statue found near Lauterbach</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">origin—pre-Roman, in short, and indigenous to this country, whence -localities like Drusenfluh, Drusenthor, Druseralp, Druserthal.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p> - -<p>Of peculiar interest to me, among my father’s writings, are forty or -fifty manuscript essays, long and short, on a variety of themes; mere -“asides” written, to please himself, in three different languages: -English, French and German. French he studied at Geneva; German at the -gymnasium of Augsburg, and so successfully, that he learnt to handle -that tongue with more freedom and elegance than many a native writer of -the country. Most of these miscellanies date from the late fifties or -early sixties when he was still young; he doubtless continued to compose -them to the end, and the later ones would have a greater value; they are -lost. The titles testify to considerable intellectual curiosity: On -ambition—The first<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span> snowdrop—A woman’s thoughts about women—On a -passage in Pascal—The carnival—To the memory of ancient Rome—On a -comet—Voices of Nature—Friendship—A characteristic of the German -language—Dreaming of sounds—On certain pictures in the National -Gallery of Scotland—The Lake of Geneva by night—Palleske’s Life of -Schiller—Suicide—The thunderstorm—Spiritualism—Sunset in autumn—On -the want of the habit of writing—The study of Natural Science; and so -forth; a heterogeneous collection! One or two, such as a passionate -lament for the death of some little boy-friend, are set in lines as if -they were poetry, but there is no poetry about them save a certain -rhapsodical elevation of sentiment. Those written in English prove that -he had not yet excreted the poison of a German (metaphysical) schooling, -which lays fetters upon our thought and dims the candor of literary -expression. Immature stuff for the most part, heavy in diction and -saturated with the conventional wisdom of youth, although here and there -one alights upon something more esoteric, such as (in a “Fragment on -Style,” 1858): “A noble thought always commands powerful and harmonious -expression.... When a truly great thought is clothed in language -unworthy of it, the mind which dictated the words can have conceived it -only imperfectly”—which strikes me as an unexpected pronouncement, for -a youngster of twenty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span> Altogether, the perusal of these things is a -groping, twilight adventure into the soul of a dead man; vainly I ask -myself along what lines he would have developed had his life been -spared.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>Hardly had we reached home again, after a long walk down from Formarin -over Lagutz and Marul and Raggal, before Mr. R., who has a sweet nature -but is apt to be pig-headed at times beyond the common measure of man, -began to complain bitterly that I had shown him no chamois, proceeding -thereafter to hint that all my accounts of such animals might well be -pure inventions; the chamois-race was doubtless as extinct as the ibex I -had shown him at Innsbruck; otherwise, why were they not on the spot, -“where they ought to have been,” like those marmots? As if the country -were a kind of perambulating menagerie! I am all for humoring young -people up to a certain reasonable point, but it was a little more than I -had bargained for, to start off climbing again that moment. Had he -expressed any such wish at Formarin, we might have wandered towards Lech -and entered some side-valley on our left, and possibly espied a beast or -two among the crags. He said not a word about it up there. And now it -was nothing but:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Show them! Show them! What am I here for?”</p> - -<p>“To learn English.”</p> - -<p>“And to see the sights of the country. Such was our bargain. All you -talk about chamois—ah, ah! I begin to understand.”</p> - -<p>“I showed you a wild roe-deer in the Lutz forest last week, the first -you ever saw in your life; and the devil’s own job it was to get you to -see it. Won’t that do?”</p> - -<p>“There you made a mistake. You ought to have called it a chamois. Then I -should have believed that chamois still exist.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Still exist?</i> Why, we had chamois only the other day for luncheon.”</p> - -<p>“It might have been bad mutton.”</p> - -<p>“What next! It was delicious; and no more like mutton than—than——”</p> - -<p>“I see what it is. You are afraid of climbing rocks. You have lost your -nerve; I noticed it long ago on the cliffs at Scanno, but there are -certain subjects one does not like to dwell upon between friends. -<i>Troppo vino.</i> You comprehend?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing of the kind. And if it were <i>troppo vino</i>, what object do you -gain by being offensive about it?”</p> - -<p>“To shame you into showing them.”</p> - -<p>“Well, after that, I suppose you will have to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span> them. As to climbing -rocks—— I think I can show chamois to people without climbing at all.”</p> - -<p>So I did; by a stroke of luck which was surely not undeserved. Knowing -Mr. R.’s character only too well, and how that there would not be -another moment’s peace for me until those legendary creatures had been -proved to exist, I called to mind, after some little thought, a place -where chamois could almost invariably be seen, and we left home then and -there, over Bludenz and Brand and the Zalim alp towards the Strassburger -hut which lies under the Scesaplana, between a precipice and a perennial -snow-field; arriving just as the sun went down.<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> Near the end of our -march we turned a little to the right and glanced about us. There they -were, three young beasts, almost straight below; unmistakable chamois, -and as close at hand as any one could wish. Straightway Mr. R., whose -familiarity with precipices is only surpassed by his familiarity with -English grammar, proposed scrambling down a sheer wall of several -hundred feet, and then throwing stones at them from behind. Who knows? A -chance hit on the head, and we might bag one or the other. What a lark, -if we did! The novelty<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span> of the idea was so alluring that I might have -succumbed, if the animals had not scented us—as they would have done -ere this, had we been standing below them—and made off amid a -resounding clatter of stones. Mr. R. formally declared himself to be -satisfied.</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that,” I replied. “And, now that we are here, I will be -able to show you something still funnier and more interesting to-morrow. -Butterflies on this snow-field.”</p> - -<p>“Why not pelicans?”</p> - -<p>“Some folks are hard to please.”</p> - -<p>There are nearly always frozen butterflies to be found up here. They -have been wafted from their green meadows into these barren Arctic -regions on the upward-striving blasts of the Fön.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile we passed the night in the well-heated Strassburger hut, where -we discovered as objectionable a crowd of Teutons as I have ever seen -gathered together; and I have seen not a few. A fierce argument was -proceeding between two of these bullet-headed ones as to whether the -snowfield was a <i>Ferner</i> or a <i>Gletscher</i>. The <i>Ferner</i> man was right -(though the Tyrolese use the word “Fern” for a glacier); but his -opponent also came in for some share of applause. He had the louder -voice of the two.</p> - -<p>Up the Scesaplana next morning in time for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span> sunrise, where Mr. R. -grew silent and respectful. Naturally enough. For there is something -oppressive to the spirit on being thus islanded, for the first time, in -a glittering ocean of Alpine peaks, and breathing the icy air of dawn at -3000 meters. I greeted old friends that arose up round us, and my -glance, turning eastwards, rested at last upon the stainless white dome -of the Ortler, fifty or sixty miles away. I called to mind that short -snow-arête just before you reach the summit, knife-like and not even -level; would I now care to run along it as I did then? Well, that was in -the eighties and perhaps they have built a railway up the Ortler by this -time; in the eighties, while we were touring on old-fashioned high -bicycles over the Stelvio pass—a record, I fancy: there was a notice of -it in the C. T. C. Gazette; over the Stelvio into Italy and back by the -Splügen, riding home in one day from the Post at Splügen over Thusis and -Chur and Ragatz and Feldkirch—which was also something of an -achievement for the wretched machines of those days.</p> - -<p>On the way down we stepped for a moment into the Lünersee hut, where Mr. -R. had a look at the large photograph of my father after whom the place -had been named, then followed the Rellsthal towards Vandans under that -formidable flank of the Zimba on which the other tourist had died of -sheer fright. During this descent my companion, unfortunately,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span> began to -relapse into something like his normal frame of mind; that is to say, -our pleasure was nearly marred by persistent jocular allusions to that -London hat of mine which has not yet ceased to provoke his merriment. -Some time ago I was under the impression that he had forgotten this -trivial and well worn theme of mirth. Far from it. Young people never -will realize when a joke has grown threadbare, and he now distilled so -much fresh laughter out of its shape, its color, its brim and other -details of construction, its general fit, its suitability to my -particular style, likening me at one time to his own countryman Napoleon -and at another to a certain old female cousin of whose existence I had -hitherto been unaware, that I was on the verge of getting annoyed when I -hit upon the genial expedient of making him translate his miserable -witticisms into the English tongue.</p> - -<p>Then, and not till then, did they become really amusing; it was my turn -to laugh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="JORDAN_CASTLE" id="JORDAN_CASTLE"></a>JORDAN CASTLE</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Jordan Castle</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">W</span>E often walk past that decrepit castle of Jordan. Situated on the hill -above Bludesch, it is a landmark visible from afar, and was never a -castle at all but a pretentious kind of villa. My mother told me that -the builder had been a Dutch political refugee, and that the red violets -growing on the inside of its westerly wall were planted by him. Those -violets may be found to this hour—their leaves, at least; and you may -find white ones along the path that leads down eastwards out of the -orchard here—you could, at least.</p> - -<p>Since then I have learnt a little more, but not nearly enough, about -this strange-looking ruin. There used to be a small, two-roomed house on -the site in olden days; this was bought, and converted into a splendid -palace—<i>splendidum exstruxit palatium</i>—by Georg Ludwig von -Lindenspeur, who lived there till his death in 1673. The plan of the -building is as regular as can be, and thoroughly uninteresting; it has -an artificial terrace in front, supported on massive substructures. The -place continued to remain in good state till 1843 when it changed -hands,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span> and the new proprietor, having no use for it, took off the roof -and carried away everything else that served his purposes. Who -Lindenspeur was, I cannot say; the name does not sound altogether German -or Austrian, and is unknown to me. He it was, I imagine, who for his own -convenience or that of his visitors built or enlarged the path that -leads up, some few hundred yards to the east of the ruin, from the -driving-road in the valley below; this path, then broad enough for a -carriage, with sustaining walls on both sides, has now grown quite -narrow from disuse. He also founded a charity for several villages which -exists to this day. The yearly income, for our particular one, is -twenty-two florins; before the war, one might have helped a few poor -people with this sum. Who is going to pick it up nowadays?</p> - -<p>Such is the history of the “Jordanschloss.” I should like to learn more -about the mysterious Lindenspeur; where he came from, and what induced -him to settle in these outlandish regions and there to live to the day -of his death. I have heard of no one else doing such a thing in the -seventeenth century. He may well have been a refugee of some kind; a -recluse, an original, in any case, and a wealthy one. So Jordan has been -a ruin only for the last eighty years. One would never think so; for it -already wears a hopelessly decayed look, as if it had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span> abandoned -for a couple of centuries at least. That is because it lacks the solid -masonry of our feudal remains. It crumbles away all the time, and I -suspect that the farmhouse near at hand has been built with its stones.</p> - -<p>We had a good look at Jordan yesterday afternoon, and agreed that it was -an uncommonly transparent fabric. “The old gentleman must have been fond -of windows,” observed Mr. R. True! There are more open spaces than -stones in its ostentatious front; a row of eleven windows, all exactly -alike, and young trees are sprouting out of them. This is what made Mr. -R. christen the place “Château aux fenêtres.” And this name, in its -turn, gave occasion for a simple question on my part, a question that -led to a prolonged and painful discussion, in the course of which some -little light was thrown on Mr. R.’s progress in the English language. I -enquired as I should have done:</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Now what is the English for “Le château aux fenêtres”?</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> The castle to the windows.</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Castle to the windows? Try again. I am the most patient teacher in -the world. And we have the whole afternoon before us. So don’t hurry and -don’t disappoint me. Think!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span></p> - -<p><i>R.</i> Let me see.... “Château” may sometimes be rendered by -“country-house.” The country-house to the windows. I know my <i>vocables</i>.</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Your stock of words will pass; and such praise as is due to you for -having gotten them by heart should not be withheld. But you will never -learn English. “Castle to the windows” is treating our language in your -usual brigandish fashion; <i>de haut en bas</i>. How often have I told you -that a language must be courted, like a lover!</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> Never learn English? Are you serious? If so, allow me to say that I -have already learnt more than enough to pass my examination. I know my -<i>vocables</i>, as you yourself admit. I am also acquiring a little more -polish, which I confess may still be needful. And latterly—how I have -learnt to converse!</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Yes; how! This is most discouraging, after all my efforts. Castle -to the windows—good God! It might drive a less optimistic tutor crazy. -Let us sit down on this stone for a moment, and I will tell you -something that has just occurred to me. There was once a Greek poet and -grammarian called Palladas, who was favored, like myself, with promising -pupils of your style; who was a teacher, I mean, and nearly committed -suicide in consequence——</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> They never do it, those fellows, although one wishes they would. It -is the pupils who sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span> kill themselves. Your Pylades is probably -alive to this day. Well?</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Well, during one of his fits of depression at their extraordinary -intelligence, he wrote a little couplet which still exists to prove the -depth of his despair. Believe me, I can sympathize just now with the -unhappy Palladas. The castle to the windows.... Would you like to -translate his two short lines? They are very easy. And then you will -understand the state of my feelings.</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> Not if you write in Greek. Put them into French, and I will -translate anything you please. Here is a scrap of paper.</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> ...There now! Go ahead. No, no, no. I must have it in writing. You -are too slippery, <i>viva voce</i>. And please try to do it carefully, for a -change.</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> Voilà!... <i>I was ramble nude to the earth, and I will ramble nude -underneath her. And why I dredge in vain, viewing the nude finish?</i> So -that is the state of your feelings. You seem to have forgotten to put -your clothes on.</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> I was ramble nude——</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> You may say “stroll” instead of “ramble”; I am not particular! Or -“saunter.” All these are better words than “walk” or “promenade”; they -are more adapted for poetic uses. That is why I chose “dredge” instead -of “labor”; it sounds less common. You see what come of knowing one’s -<i>vocables</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Drudge; not dredge. I was ramble nude. This is appalling. I mean to -preserve that document as a <i>pièce justificative</i>. There may be some -trouble, you know, about the way you have spent your time out here. -Ramble nude—God Almighty! Why, the poet means to say that he walked, -that he was born, naked into this world; don’t you see?</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> <i>Ça se peut bien.</i> In that case, he was perhaps not the first. -There is nothing very original in baby-poets being born naked. Now if he -had worn a felt hat on that occasion——</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> This is hardly the moment, is it? Your English, I must insist on -telling you, leaves a great deal to be desired. And I should like to -ask: what are we going to do about it?</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> If the baby-poet had suddenly come to light, wearing that London -hat of yours ... ah, the doctor’s explanations——!</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Laugh away. There will be a nude finish. You will never pass the -test.</p> - -<p><i>R.</i> And why not? Only a camel would bother to learn all those useless -idioms. I was always first in our English class at college. I knew more -than the <i>profs</i>, and they were high-class people.</p> - -<p><i>D.</i> Was you ramble nude there?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span></p><p><i>R.</i> <i>Allons</i>; just a little more polish ... ah, ah! The horrified -<i>sage-femme</i> ... her face ... ah, ah, ah!...</p> - -<p>From this transparent “castle to the windows” we “rambled” yesterday, -always to the westwards, always along the brow of the hill; crossed the -Tiefis-Bludesch road and, about a quarter of a mile further on, turned -to the right and followed a field path that goes first uphill and then -down. It leads to the village of Schlins.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> - -<p>The meadow region ends in a dank spot, almost a swamp, surrounded by -forest on three sides. We were amazed at the multitude of butterflies -crowded into this narrow space: I have never seen so many swallowtails -gathered together. The mead is henceforward to be known as “pré des -papillons,” and it was here that Mr. R. propounded a puzzling question. -What happens to all the butterflies, he asked, when the grass is cut and -the flowers gone? Where do they go? What do they find to eat? I have no<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span> -idea. There are butterflies everywhere just now. In a fortnight or so, -there will be none left, save a few peacocks and red admirals moping -about the fallen fruit in orchards. Have they migrated upwards into -Alpine quarters, where the fields are mown at a later season? Do they -perish?</p> - -<p>Here, at the end of the “pré des papillons,” you enter a noble forest -which continues as far as Schlins. We used to call it the wood of -the——. No; I refuse to open up that chapter of infantile -nature-worship. Suffice to say, that the forest was properly dedicated -to this potent but capricious deity, both by reason of its immeasurable -distance from home (nearly an hour’s walk) and consequent unfamiliarity -to us, and of the deep gloom which pervaded it in those days. It has -since been thinned out; even to-day it remains one of the finest in the -district and many of the firs reach a height of forty meters. Lower down -and to the south there runs through the same wood another path, also to -Schlins. It follows the base of one of those waterless east-west vales -which are so contrarious, because, instead of at right angles, they lie -parallel to our main valley. This used to be a terrifying track in those -days; so narrow and deep was the dell, so tall and thick the trees on -either side, that twilight reigned here in bluest noonday; and its -length was interminable! The whole glen has now been reafforested and -sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span>shine penetrates into all its recesses; but you can still discover -the decaying stumps of those old giants, encrusted, many of them, with -<i>Elfenbecher</i> (fairy goblets)—minute mossy growths, shaped and tinted -like chalices of frosted silver.</p> - -<p>As we traversed this lovely wood of the——, we were startled by a -disquieting din on our right. It was only a frolicsome shower, pattering -deliciously among the beeches yonder. Soon it reached us and drove us -under a fir. Here, as the drops were trickling through the branches, my -companion drew from his pocket that talisman, that <i>vade mecum</i> and -<i>sine qua non</i>, and performed a selection of pieces grave and gay; I -went to inspect a small cross that stood close at hand—one of four -which are erected in this forest to the memory of woodcutters who have -perished at their trade. It is dated 1867 and records that the victim -was 63 years old. There is another, bearing a naturalistic -representation of the accident; a wife on her knees, the husband lying -dead beside her, with a massive log of timber stretched across his -middle.</p> - -<p>Now the loud rain dropped suddenly to a whisper and we went forth again -towards Schlins, inhaling the aromatic odors of those essential oils -which it had wakened out of the damp ground. The way is marked by -colored signs against the trees; they have not been renewed since the -war, and are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span> fast fading away. This is a relic of the activities of the -Blumenegg “beautification-society” which was started in emulation of -that of Bludenz and, like it, expired in consequence of the war. The -society did a good deal in its short life in thus marking tracks and -even building benches here and there, that now molder pleasantly away; -the whole wood from St. Anne church to Nenzing, for instance, is -provided with marks, and whoever does not know the country might well be -grateful for them. They also built the road down to Blumenegg waterfall, -a delightful spot; that along our big waterfall was made by my brother -and inaugurated, amid much speechifying and beer-drinking, on the 31 -July, 1898.</p> - -<p>Schlins lies prettily tucked away on a green level between the hills and -the projecting woodland ridge of Jadgberg. We soon found ourselves at -the Krone inn, where I have been an habitué for more years than I care -to remember and where Mr. R. devoured his customary two eggs and cider, -while I indulged in a long chat with the proprietress, who is a -particular friend of mine. It does one good to be with such people, so -blithe and natural and intelligent; I could go on talking to her for -ever and ever; and I nearly did.</p> - -<p>Then up, at last, through the firs to the venerable ruin of Jagdberg. -Hard by the castle they have erected the so-called “Josefinum”—a kind -of refuge<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span> and school for poor children of both sexes, waifs and strays, -the scum of the province. It contains about fifteen girls and fifty -boys, many of questionable parentage or none at all, ailing in body and -mind—squint-eyed and one-legged and tuberculous and mangy and -feeble-minded and depraved. They are sometimes spoken of as the -“Verbrecherle,” the little criminals, and a few may perhaps deserve that -name. One of these, not long ago, certainly displayed a rare tenacity of -purpose. It was a boy-orphan who, at the age of fourteen, left the -establishment where (according to his own account) he had been grossly -and systematically ill-treated. When he was eighteen he considered -himself strong enough to carry out a long-meditated project of revenge, -and stole into the place one night with the intention of setting fire to -it and of murdering the director with a dagger or revolver, both of -which he carried on his person. They caught him before much damage could -be done, and he was sentenced to eight years’ imprisonment. The son of a -gypsy, it was said; which may be an <i>ex post facto</i> explanation of his -original conduct. In every case, he cannot but have suffered under an -oppressive sense of injustice to be able to nurse his rage through four -long years. Perhaps, after serving his sentence, he will have another -try at the director....</p> - -<p>As at Blumenegg, there is nothing left of Jagdberg<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span> save its outer wall, -its shell; and on entering this hoary shell we were amazed to find -therein a modern swimming-bath of cement, surely the most unexpected use -to which a feudal ruin can be put. A handful of boys were splashing -about here, together with some school-children from Schlins, every one -of whom is obliged to learn to swim. This bath and the Josefinum and its -plantations have impaired the charm of Jagdberg, as I knew it long ago; -it was then a slumberous, world-forgotten place. I am glad they have at -least not troubled to tear down its magnificent growth of ivy. True, it -always lacked the seclusion and dreaminess of Blumenegg; on the other -hand, it is more spacious, more solid, more grandiose. Like that ruin, -it dates from about the twelfth century, was destroyed by the -Appenzellers in 1405, and afterwards rebuilt; within its walls stood a -famous chapel dedicated to St. Michael. It must now have lain abandoned -for many long centuries. One would like to know why Herr Georg Ludwig -von Lindenspeur, who seems to have had more money than was good for -him—why he did not settle down in this wonderful place, instead of -erecting his flimsy and pompous barrack at Jordan? Who would not live at -Jagdberg, if he could? Such thoughts occur involuntarily, on visiting -any of these old sites. Who would not live at Jagdberg, especially in -that earlier period? Then down with that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span> warren of rickety and vicious -bastards, and up with the gallows!</p> - -<p>Charitable projects....</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>And yet——</p> - -<p>And yet these lords of Jagdberg and other men of the past may not have -been altogether the simpletons one used to think them. When they risked -their lives, they did it in their own interests and on their own -responsibility; not, like our warriors of to-day, for the sake of -enriching people of whom they had never even heard. When they robbed, -they robbed to some purpose that was at least seemingly sane and -seemingly profitable. They had not much use for the brotherhood of all -men: “God save us from such brothers!” we can hear them saying. And so -much one may observe without bitterness, that if one dream can be called -more absurd than another, this of universal brotherhood is surely the -absurdest that ever sat in our poor deluded brain, and the present state -of the world a luminous commentary on it. I imagine it would have -puzzled those old feudals—our Oriental preoccupation with other folk, -our craving to lean up against each other for mutual support and -betterment. Flabbiness, they might have called it. <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span>We call it -“solidarity.”... A little trick of ours.... We invent such words to -shadow forth a desire more or less vague, more or less reasonable; and -forthwith flatter ourselves that we have succeeded in creating a thing. -Solidarity! Mankind is a jellyfish. How comes a jellyfish to want a -backbone?</p> - -<p>Such individualistic ideals may come into fashion again. Meanwhile, they -are out of date. The castles lie in ruins and their occupants, the human -wolves, have been hunted out of the land. Let us be sheep. The loves and -hatreds of these wolfish creatures must have been narrow and limited in -their range. On the other hand, they were doubtless personal, fervent. -They were kept clean. Our loves and hatreds are no longer kept clean. -They have ceased to be personal; we love and hate in the herd, the mass. -Endeavoring to identify our most intimate aspirations with those of -other men, we produce that incongruity of feeling and outlook, that -haziness of moral contour, which is a feature of modern life—to what -end? Solidarity! By all means adopt a fellow-creature’s greatcoat, or -lend him your own. Why adopt his character? Is a bundle of -self-contradictory inhibitions worth adopting? Love your neighbor as -yourself. Now what has that gentleman done, to deserve our love?</p> - -<p>Philanthropic musings, engendered by the spectacle <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span>of Jagdberg and its -Josefinum....<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="ROSENEGG" id="ROSENEGG"></a>ROSENEGG</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Rosenegg</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>NOTHER of these castle-ruins is the massive old tower of Rosenegg near -Bürs (Rhæto-Roman <i>Puire</i>), opposite Bludenz. It also dates from the -twelfth century; like the others, it was sacked by the Appenzellers in -1405; unlike them, it was never rebuilt—not till the other day. For six -long centuries it stood desolate and forlorn. Then, quite lately, -somebody bought the place and converted it into a residence; with good -taste, so far as one can judge from the outside. All the same, it is -annoying to see that he has planted a few exotic conifers in the -grounds; they will doubtless prosper there, but they are out of harmony -with their Alpine surroundings. I must come and pull them out, one of -these nights.</p> - -<p>The Rosenegg I knew was a truly “somber pile,” decaying alone up there, -far from the habitations of men, on its sunless hillock under the shadow -of those mighty Rhætian peaks. Nobody ever seemed to go near the place. -There was a shattered window at a good height on the eastern flank, and -you could get in here by climbing a wild cherry tree and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span> jumping -on to its ledge. The interior was a moldering chaos of stones. Round -about we used to find certain favorite plants: the rose-and-white -immortelles with silvery leaves, and “fox-tail” moss, and the globular -amber-hued ranunculus of spring, deliciously fragrant. Then flowers were -dropped in favor of butterflies; after that, the stone-period began and -Rosenegg was again frequented, for the whole neighborhood happened to be -strewn with crystalline erratics great and small, and in some of them -you might find brown garnets, but not in all; far from it! You had to -look for them pretty closely.</p> - -<p>That was long ago.</p> - -<p>And now, at the other end of life, one returns anew to Rosenegg on a -sunny afternoon, purged of the mists of middle years and, delving into -memories of that clear dawn and seeking to recapture its spirit, marvels -at the feverish joy which greeted discoveries such as these degenerate -little garnets, not a single one of which had the right color, nor made -the faintest pretense at being the rhombic dodecahedron it should have -been. How one changes!</p> - -<p>This was always, alas, a bad country for “stones.”... Silver ore near -Dalaas of questionable worth, and rock crystals in several quarries, and -gypsum beyond St. Anton, and a poor kind of amethyst at the Hanging -Stone; the fossils were likewise meager<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span>—corals in the limestone of -Lorüns, univalves under certain rocks at Hohenems, those oysters in the -ruddy Nagelfluh (Middle Miocene) at Bregenz; last, not least, the -fucoids of the Flysch (Eocene) which you could find nearly everywhere, -pretty to look at, but terribly fragile. That was all. There were -legends, mere legends, of ammonites being seen in the local red marble; -we never saw them!<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> Ah, if our father had still been alive, he might -have told us where to find this or that; his stone-collection was our -delight, our despair. Not everybody had his luck, we often said, to -stumble in the Scesa-torrent upon a huge writhing mammoth tusk that -required two or three men to carry—how had he done it, and why couldn’t -we do it too?<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> - -<p>Stones were dropped when birds and beasts began, and during that -slaughter-epoch Rosenegg became once more famous for producing the first -stoat that ever fell to my gun, and a falcon as well. There was a pair -of them here, and once, resting on that green terrace with my mother, I -saw the male bird dash off the ruin overhead, and swiftly took aim at -him (I refused to be parted from my gun, even dur<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span>ing family walks). -Down he fluttered and fell, stone dead, at our feet. I recall that -afternoon as if it were yesterday. My mother said nothing; she suffered -more intensely than did the falcon, but had long since abandoned all -hope of curing my murderous instincts. I remember, too, passing alone -once through the woods below this tower and becoming aware of an unusual -sound at my side. Who could have guessed its origin? It was a putrid -fragment of a stag, so alive with worms as to make itself heard.</p> - -<p>At the back of Rosenegg a little path descends through the wood; here, -one morning before sunrise, I came face to face with a fox who was -returning from some nocturnal visit to the poultry yards of Bürs; it was -a question of who should step aside to let the other pass. The fox was -not to be outdone in politeness; he vanished ere I had time to slip the -gun from my shoulder. This is the path we followed yesterday, proceeding -thence always eastwards at the foot of the Rhætikon mountains; at their -roots, one might say, for they rise up straight from the level, as does -a tree. Walking along, Mr. R. encountered a tiny creature that scared -him considerably; indeed, he was transfixed with astonishment and -stepped a pace or two backwards; he had never yet seen anything of the -kind, either on land or in water.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span></p> - -<p>“A crocodile?”</p> - -<p>“Not quite; a Quadertatsch. Pick him up and make friends with him.”</p> - -<p>“His hands are cold.”</p> - -<p>Cold they are, like those of a Hindu; and he himself is blacker than any -Hindu, or any nigger; black as the devil, with a luster as of -patent-leather boots; black but comely. It looks as if his first shape -had been remodeled by some thoughtful craftsman who added a row of -decorative bosses along sides and back, and pinched his tail till it -became slightly quadrangular in form; creating, with these few masterly -touches, something heraldic and distinguished out of quite a commonplace -original. A vast improvement! And his manners are in keeping. He nods -his head sagely on making your acquaintance, and at once begins climbing -up your arm with a comical precision of movement, a deliberate -jauntiness, that reminds one of some retired <i>maître de ballet</i> whose -limbs have grown a little creaky with age and rheumatism, but who is -determined to show off his faded graces to the best advantage.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I ought to explain that the Quadertatsch is what the Tyrolese -call a Tattermandl. The last syllable of this word proves that they have -also noticed certain human traits in his demeanor. The Tattermandl is a -universal favorite among Alpine folk. In his home up there, you seldom -see one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span> them alone; they are social beings, often to be found in -companies of a dozen or more. And what was this one doing here, all by -himself? Like several others I have met, he has been the victim of an -accident; always the same accident! He was swept off his legs in the -recent torrential rains and whirled two or three thousand feet down, -into our tropical regions, along one of the gullies that seam these -mountains. He will have a long walk home again; and all uphill.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></p> - -<p>Two hours later we had crossed the Ill at Lorüns and found ourselves, -after a good while, walking up the picturesque village of Rungalin; it -leans against the hillside near Bludenz in the shape of the letter Y, -and should be viewed in spring, when its brown houses are all smothered -in creamy apple blossoms. Thence, always uphill, past the little spring -called “Halde Wässerle” and along the summit of those fine cliffs at -whose foot lies the Bährenloch cavern, turning sharp to the right and -emerging finally at Obdorf, beside the upper bridge that spans the -Galgen-tobel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span></p> - -<p>Just across this torrent, where the path begins to climb to Latz, stands -a modern peasant house which I never fail to visit with pleasure and -even respect. It has a suggestive history. Years ago, there was a poor -man who went, with all his family, as a dayworker to the cotton-mill at -Bürs, and there earned what he could. Such people are everlastingly in -want, since for some reason or other all their gains have to be spent -forthwith; this particular family was no exception. The father watched -his children growing thinner and paler from day to day, and stupider and -wastefuller in character, and saw no prospect of any betterment in the -future. “This must end,” he suddenly said, as if an inspiration had come -to him; and, borrowing a little money, bought for next to nothing the -tract of ground here which was then almost a marsh (nobody would -believe, nowadays, that you could pick handfuls of the large single -gentian on the spot), and drained it, and built a small cottage. The -family became agriculturists then and there; not a single member -returned to the factory, not for a day. Every year something new was -done to their domain; a cow purchased, another strip of land bought, a -fresh room added, and so on; with the result that these people, instead -of empty heads and spendthrift habits and weakened constitutions, have -now acquired prosperity and self-respect and decent manners and good -health. Here<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span> was one, at least, who refused to be beguiled by the -tomfoolery of industrialism.</p> - -<p>We descended to Nüziders down the gentle slope of that deltoid tract -mentioned on p. 148. It had grown late, and my companion was -proportionately hungry after his long walk; he insisted on refreshing -himself at the “Bädle” inn which in olden days used to be an excellent -tavern run by a Swiss—as children, we were once quarantined within its -walls for a week or two, to escape an epidemic of measles, and all in -vain! Immediately overhead are the ruins of Sonnenberg castle, another -of our feudal nests and not the least famous of them; to judge by -prints, it must have been a lordly structure. It was destroyed by fire, -and nothing remains upright save a wall with a couple of trees growing -out of its masonry. The last survivor of this noble family ended in -ignoble fashion; he was murdered by another count whom he had enraged -with some saucy speech.</p> - -<p>It was dark and moonless night before Mr. R. could be brought to confess -that he had eaten enough for the time being; none the less, we risked -taking the uphill path which starts at the “Bädle” and traverses the -wooded saddle behind the Hanging Stone, to end near the church of St. -Martin on the other side of that ridge. The now defunct -“beautification-society” of Bludenz did much to improve tracks like this -and those we had followed earlier in the after<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span>noon; their labors were -then lost on us, everything was pitch black before our eyes; there was -no break whatever in the forest, and a man might well go astray here at -a late hour, particularly at a certain point where, instead of turning -to the left, he would be tempted to go straight on, and presently find -himself on the edge of a nasty cliff. The place, however, was still -familiar to me, since it was up here that I used to lie in wait with the -saturnine Mattli, at nightfall ages ago, trying to poach roe-deer. I can -still hear him whispering to me, on such an occasion, in that sepulchral -voice of his:</p> - -<p>“You know what happened there?”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“Down in that hollow,” and he pointed with his gun in the direction of a -sunken patch, a dingle, at our feet; it lies in the center of the -saddle.</p> - -<p>“What happened?”</p> - -<p>“<i>They killed the last wolf.</i>”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”—and I felt a little shudder running down my back.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span></p> - -<p>I was thinking yesterday of Mattli and his last wolf, as we moved -forward through the night, and thereupon began to puzzle over a question -which seems to have puzzled no one else, namely, how it comes about that -this animal is extinct in all the Alpine region, notwithstanding its -enormous area of inaccessible territory, whereas in relatively populous -districts such as the Dordogne it is still common enough to be something -of a nuisance, in spite of ceaseless persecution on the part of man. I -concluded, perhaps wrongly, that the wolf has been extirpated hereabouts -not so much by the human race as by hunger; his natural prey (hares, -wildfowl, etc.) having grown much scarcer of late—scarcer than they are -in Scandinavia or Russia, while sheep and goats and dogs, which he can -still pick up in places like the Vosges or Apennines, are not so easy to -capture during the severe alpine winter, being mostly kept within doors. -If he could go to sleep like the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span> bear, or had the cunning of the fox, -he might have survived to this day.</p> - -<p>At last we emerged on the level again and, passing the church of St. -Martin, found ourselves under the lights of Ludesch. Never before had -that village seemed so endlessly long.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>Those gray, weather-beaten erratics of which I spoke have been gradually -disappearing from the landscape since my Rosenegg days. They used to be -quite a feature of the countryside. When you crossed our petrifying -stream, for instance, you beheld a horde of them scattered over the -slanting field below the road, and some were of prodigious size, bearing -bushes and little trees on their backs. Not one of those is left; I know -of only a single remaining block which is decorated with timber; you -will never find it, though you may certainly pass a spot, not far from -Jordan castle, where twenty-three can still be counted lying -about—dwarfs, mostly, or half submerged in the earth. The peasant makes -war on these things; he shatters them in pieces with dynamite or splits -them with wedges; for they take up room, they interfere with his mow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span>ing -operations, their stone is admirably adapted for building purposes. And -here is another little puzzle. Sometimes, in a thick wood, one may -stumble upon the conscientiously piled-up fragments of what used to be a -block of this kind, all forgotten and overgrown with moss; why go to the -trouble of breaking up this fractious material, and then do nothing with -it? Mystery!</p> - -<p>The wall of the road leading up from the Bludesch church of St. Nicholas -towards Tiefis consists largely of the primitive rock of erratics which -formerly strewed the surrounding land; so does that which leaves Tiefis -in the direction of our own village.</p> - -<p>Which reminds me of our last, and most disappointing, visit to the -“innkeepress and his beautiful girl.” There was no question, that day, -of the <i>embrassez-moi</i> on which Mr. R. has set his simple heart, for the -baby was absent, having gone for a brief “Sommerfrische”—as if Tiefis -were not fresh enough already—up to Thüringerberg, to stay with a -sister of her mother’s, who comes from there. She would be back in a few -days, we were told. A piece of downright bad luck for him! He seemed to -be really upset; so much so, that I had to promise we should return -again soon. Then he suddenly recalled my undertaking to show him over -the Valduna asylum; it would be an agreeable diversion and fill up the -time; we could run down to Bregenz<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span> too, as he had never seen a great -inland water like the Lake of Constance.</p> - -<p>My passion for idiots having waned of late, I was hoping he had -forgotten about Valduna. But no. He may forget the past participle of -every one of our irregular verbs; the prospect of an exhibition of three -or four dozen lunatics is the kind of thing he can be trusted to -remember. So be it. After all, there is no harm in going there; no harm -whatever. The sight of those poor wretches may medicine his youthful -bumptiousness and make him more contented with his own lot in life -which, once a week or so, gives occasion for some ludicrously savage -outburst.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="VALDUNA" id="VALDUNA"></a>VALDUNA</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Valduna</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">V</span>ALDUNA was a surfeit of idiots. Mr. R. waxed grave; he has gained, I -think, a definite acquisition of humanity. That is as it should be. Such -sights of anguish are a tonic for the soul; they make us serious about -things that are worth being serious about; they deepen and broaden our -sympathies.</p> - -<p>The cheery doctor became still more cheery on hearing my name—he is a -local alpinist—and did not omit a single patient save one or two of the -women who, presumably, were taking sun-baths in <i>impuris naturalibus</i>, -as was also one of the males, a robust and pretty boy of sixteen; he had -a clouded, far-away look, and could not be induced to utter a word. We -saw them all; the unclean patients, the unquiet patients, as well as the -simple lunatics, sad or glad. There are no violent ones here just now, -but some of those who suffered from hallucinations of hearing were -sufficiently abusive.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Madam,” said the doctor to one of the ladies, “what may you be -doing here? I don’t seem to have seen your face before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“I’ve come to visit a poor patient. Didn’t they announce my name? How -unpardonably stupid of them! But I shall have to be leaving in about -half an hour. So good-by, doctor, in case we don’t meet again.”</p> - -<p>Quite mad!</p> - -<p>There was a poor old fellow in bed, on the brink of G. P. I. He -fascinated Mr. R., casting a hot, delirious glance upon him and pouring -out a flood of turbid megalomania.</p> - -<p>“What is he telling me? What? What’s that? Translate, translate!”</p> - -<p>Translating was out of the question. The speech contained not a shred of -coherence; nothing but fragmentary pictures, flashing up and swiftly -engulfed again; his brain was in combustion. Moreover, the patient would -have had ten words out of his mouth to every one of mine.</p> - -<p>We visited the other establishment as well, a non-official, charitable -one. The director is a priest, native of this province, and one who -knows it well. He told me an interesting thing. We were speaking of the -former wine-production here, and I said it was doubtless the Arlberg -tunnel (I went through with the first train) which had caused the local -plantation of vineyards to cease, or at least to diminish to such an -extent that, for example, of the vineyards once clothing the hillsides -of my particular village<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span>—our family, too, had its own—there was only -a single one left; that belonging to the Prior of St. Gerold. And it was -the same with the rest of the province; the reason being, of course, -that the Arlberg railway had immensely reduced the price of wine from -Lower Austria or South Tyrol, which used formerly to be imported by -carrier, at great expense, over the Arlberg pass. Why cultivate bad -wine, when you can buy a better quality for the same money?</p> - -<p>The tunnel might have done something, he agreed, and so might the modern -rise of industrialism hereabouts which tempted men from the fields into -the factories; but the real reason was the change of climate. It had -grown not colder, but damper. He was fond of wine; he had paid -particular attention to this matter all his life; there could be no -doubt about it. Feldkirch was a case in point. All its slopes were -covered with vineyards not long ago; the Feldkirchers had grown so -attached to their home product that they preferred it to anything from -abroad. There was now not a vine left at Feldkirch. The grapes refused -to ripen properly there, as they still did in more favored localities -like Sulz-Röthis.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span></p> - -<p>Thereafter we took the train to Bregenz. Hardly were we seated in our -carriage before Mr. R. began:</p> - -<p>“Now I want to know exactly what he said. Please repeat it.”</p> - -<p>“We were talking about the former production of wine in this province. -He maintains that owing to recent climatic changes——”</p> - -<p>“Not your old man! My old man.”</p> - -<p>Could anybody have remembered that rigmarole? I had to invent another -one, at the end of which he said:</p> - -<p>“So that was it? How sad, and how suggestive. The ravings of a mind -diseased. Poor man! I must have that all down, word for word, in my -diary....”</p> - -<p>Despite Adelaide Procter’s sprightly verses and its own illustrious -ancestry, Bregenz remains a repulsive little town on the shore of its -dead lake; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span> associated in my mind with infantile earaches and -spankings. I went there not for fun, but for a set purpose; firstly, to -consult the Curator of the new Museum, who was described as a -prodigiously amiable person, as to what natural curiosities, if any, had -lately been discovered in our upland regions, to re-inspect a picture, a -sugary-watery Ganymede attributed to Angelika Kauffmann, left to this -institution by my sister’s will, a Roman votive stone found on my -maternal grandfather’s estate and other objects here deposited by -members of my family, and to see whether his library contained any -unknown works by old Theodor (or Thomas) Bruhin; secondly, to apply for -the same object to that venerable convent-school of Mehrerau, where some -homeward-bound Pope expired long ago and where, according to one of -Bruhin’s pamphlets, he was “Professor” and may well have left some -documentary traces; thirdly, to visit the “Archiv” which contains a -goodly collection of books, old and new, dealing with this province, and -therefore, possibly, something of my father’s, and also to refresh my -memory in the matter of local dialects, place-names and so forth, and -inspect early prints of places like Jagdberg, Blumenegg and -Jordan-schloss; lastly, to present myself at the offices of the Alpine -Club in order to go through the files of their “Mitteilungen” and make a -list of my father’s contributions to that journal, and see whether it -con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span>tains some “Nachruf” of him, some obituary notice, as is likely -enough, seeing that so tragic an accident to a conspicuous member can -hardly have been left unrecorded.</p> - -<p>A reasonable program.</p> - -<p>I did none of these things; no, not one. Zeal for such scholarly -investigations seems to be abating; or can it have been the weather? It -happened to be cloudless. Much pleasanter, bathing in the lake and -climbing up, towards evening, to admire the view from St. Gebhard’s -chapel.</p> - -<p>We managed to go, none the less, to the Protestant cemetery which lies -on the site of the <i>thermae</i> of old Brigantium, and examined the graves -of no less than ten deceased relatives. Here lies, among the rest, that -maternal grandfather who was responsible for the spankings aforesaid. -His tombstone recounts his glories, and I do not believe in all of them; -he doubtless had the memorial engraved half a century before his death, -in order that posterity should make no mistake as to his merits while -alive. This old feudal monster never did a stroke of work in his endless -life. He was a braggart of the first water, with gray mustache that -looked freshly waxed and curled—quite <i>à la</i> Münchhausen—at whatever -hour of the day you might meet him; he radiated good health, and seemed -everlastingly to have stepped that very moment out of a hot bath and the -hands of a con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span>scientious valet; he had a pink baby-complexion, and the -candid eyes of the born liar. He spanked me as often as I came here in -childhood, even as he had spanked his only son who died in -youth—perhaps from the effects of it. Only once did I score off him -during this earlier period. It was his unvarying habit to begin -breakfast—a huge cup of a certain kind of chocolate, specially imported -from Paris, for himself; tea or coffee for all the rest, and be damned -to them—with a boiled egg. One morning of All Fool’s Day I slipped down -just before the others, devoured his egg, and turned the hollow shell -upside down in its cup. On taking his seat, he had his customary whack -at the seemingly sound egg: empty! He glowered round the table at a -cluster of trembling daughters. At last he caught my eye and grunted:</p> - -<p>“H’m. First of April, I presume. H’m. Not bad for a kid. H’m. Let me -advise you to try that on somebody else, next year. H’m.”</p> - -<p>Even in later times, he continued to annoy me furiously by calling me a -beetle-collector. This is how he talked:</p> - -<p>“At seventeen, my lad, I was already commanding a fortress in Hungary. -And here you are, catching cockroaches. Then we went to Greece with King -Otho and ah! the lovely years we had there; the best of all my life! I -was the first person to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span> excavations on the Acropolis of Athens, if -you happen to have heard of such a place. Just make a note of that, -young fellow. Meanwhile, here you are, hunting bugs and pinning labels -to them. Afterwards—yes, Windsor! When I was aide-de-camp to your -Prince Consort, he confessed that he could never have handled Victoria -the way he did, unless I had told him (lowering his voice) some of my -own experiences with capricious females of that class. <i>And here you -are</i>——”</p> - -<p>A fragment of the Greek yarn was true. He was there for long under Otho, -roving about with his soldiers, and that forlorn and devastated country, -as it then was, made an indelible impression on him. Not Odysseus -himself could have been more homesick for Greece than he was. He spoke -of it in tones of wistful yearning, as of a lost Paradise—the identical -tones that I have since discovered, to my surprise, in the writings of a -French contemporary, Edgar Quinet.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> Never was he so attractive, -during these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span> final years of his life, as when he sat all alone at the -piano in the twilight hour before the lamps were brought in, crooning -the tender Greek folk-songs of his youth to a soft, self-invented -accompaniment. At such moments, he was transported; he had entered into -a fairyland of which he alone possessed the key. You might have taken -him for an angel. Indeed, his voice was the best part of him at all -times. Even when he ramped and raved, it never lost its exquisite -sweetness of timbre; his very curses sounded like a ripple of celestial -laughter. He also painted sunny landscapes in oil, and composed an -amusing valse or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span> two. Such things went well with his exterior childlike -equipment. Primeval ferocity was lurking underneath.</p> - -<p>True to his freebooter instincts, he had perched himself here, at -Bregenz, on a height where he could not be overlooked by any one and -whence he obtained an unimpeded view of half the province and lake. The -place boasted of a “flag-tower” from which five countries were visible -(Austria, Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Baden and Switzerland), and he contrived, -somehow or other, to give a mediæval smack of discord and rapine to its -inner regions. Here were bleak stone passages, cold as an ice-cellar in -winter, and hung with matchlocks and lances; gloomy Gothic wardrobes -filling up their ends. The habitable part was full of spoils plundered, -without a doubt, from the rich burghers down below; a haphazard -collection of Persian carpets, harmoniums, lacquer tables, Tiepolo -portraits, glittering chandeliers, marbles: it all wore an authentic air -of loot. Somber paneling, relieved by armorial designs, covered the -walls and ceilings and made the rooms uncommonly dusky.</p> - -<p>And here he sat for years and years, terrorizing his family, all -females, into fits. People used to wonder how he managed to look so -absurdly young at eighty. His secret was simplicity itself: Live well, -and hand over everything in the way of worry to your women. He never -spoke to servants at all;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span> the harim were entrusted with that dirty -work, and woe betide them if anything went wrong with the dinner! No one -was surprised when his five daughters got engaged as fast as ever they -could and fled the premises, regardless of whom they were marrying. He -ruled his wife and sister-in-law, dear old ladies, like a slave-driver. -One or the other was always hard at work manufacturing Latakia -cigarettes for the rosy brigand, who lived on their money for seventy -years and called them names to the hour of his death, although they were -children of the premier baron of Scotland. A certain daughter had the -imprudence, one day, to admire a graceful birch-tree that she could see -from her bedroom. Next morning, as usual, she looked out of the window; -the birch was gone. It had been felled overnight. That was his system. -Dominate your women, or they will dominate you. Put the fear of God into -them—no matter how. In his own family, he declared, wives were not -allowed to sit down in the presence of their husbands, unless they had -first obtained permission. It may be true. I fancy one of his ancestors -was the cosmopolitan ruffian who wrote those memoirs; a kind of -fifth-rate Casanova. There he remained, anyhow, like an old cock on his -dunghill, crowing and gobbling; vicious and vigorous past his ninetieth -year. And the strange thing is that I am considered to have inherited a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span> -great deal of his peculiar charm. It was my mother who told me this; she -was his eldest daughter and knew both of us fairly well.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>It is time, now, to confess that not all the prints and archives and -natural history collections in the world would have brought me—or ought -to bring any one else—to Bregenz, did the place not offer another and a -greater attraction. I am alluding to the local <i>Blaufelchen</i> whose -English name at this moment escapes me: a kind of fish. They are called, -in Latin, <i>Coregonus Wartmanni</i>, which has a harsh flavor. Let nobody, -however, be scared by a mere name, inasmuch as things are apt to taste -different from what they sound. Oriental poets, for example, have sung -with such a depth of feeling about pomegranates that one almost believes -they can be eaten, whereas <i>Coregoni Wartmanni</i>, I admit, convey a -suggestion of something unpalatable. Try them none the less, and leave -Hafiz to crack his teeth over the pomegranates.</p> - -<p>These fish occur in some Scotch lakes and are considered so great a -delicacy that Mary Queen of Scots has been credited with their -introduction. But I knew one cantankerous countryman of mine (an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span> -angler, and <i>Coregonus</i> will not rise to the fly) who declared that they -were “not to be compared to trout”—which means nothing whatever, seeing -that comparison is not well possible between things so dissimilar; you -might as well say that Sir Joshua Reynolds is not to be compared to a -Bechstein Grand; and that, in fact, they were “hardly worth -eating”—which has the merit, at least, of being a straightforward -expression of opinion. Now it stands to reason that a good many things -are hardly worth eating, until you know how to cook them. The average -English hare is hardly worth eating; the way that quadruped is “dressed” -(hyperbola!) in England is an insult to the hare’s memory and to the -human stomach. As to these <i>Blaufelchen</i>—whoever does not approve of -them at the Hotel Weisses Kreuz in Bregenz must be hard to please.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> -Let him try, as a last resort, those at the Hotel Hecht in Constance; if -still dissatisfied, he should return without delay to his lukewarm -whitebait fried in mutton-grease.</p> - -<p>But, first of all, a word for your guidance. Make love neither to the -waitress nor the chamber-maid nor the she-cook. Make love to the -manager. Lure him into some corner, and unbosom yourself freely. Whisper -in his ear that you are an Ainu by birth; that while out there, at Yezo, -you accidentally met a countryman of his (mentioning name and general<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span> -appearance) who spoke in such glowing terms of the Bodensee -<i>Blaufelchen</i> that you were unable to sleep either by day or night -until, traveling via the trans-Siberian railway, you should be able to -taste them for yourself under his hospitable roof. Then see whether you -get what is “hardly worth eating.” I blush to record that we had a -veritable surfeit of <i>Blaufelchen</i>. I devoured two at a sitting, and the -waitress informed me that she had never seen a tourist—even a -German—perform a similar feat; nor should I, indeed, have been -successful, had I not kept saying to myself all the time: “When shall I -be at Bregenz again? Possibly never!” Mr. R. declared himself satisfied -with one; and small wonder. It was a leviathan....</p> - -<p>A timely warning, apropos of surfeits. On arrival at our village, we -found the family in a state of distress. One of their two cows (the rest -are on the alp) had died that afternoon; died of over-eating. She, the -proprietress, had told him, the proprietor, to beware how he left the -beast to itself; he, the proprietor, swore he had known that particular -cow from the day of its birth, and that it was far more sensible than -the rest of its kind. Left to itself, therefore, the cow had “exploded.”</p> - -<p>I am so little of a cattle-fancier that this was news to me; troubling -news. I had always regarded the cow as an exemplar of all that is sane -and moderate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span> Far from it. Give them a chance, especially after the -hay-diet of winter, and they eat till they burst. They graze, and graze, -and graze; at last, stuffed to the brim, they stand there motionless, -wondering what is wrong inside, while a pained and puzzled -look—infallible symptom, this—creeps into their eyes. Now is your -chance, your last chance, of saving their life. If you happen to have an -iron chain in your pocket, thrust it into the beast’s mouth to provoke a -flow of saliva or something else which relieves the oppression; if you -have no chain look in that other pocket, where you may find a Gargantuan -clyster to be applied to its further extremity; failing that, whip out -your butcher’s knife and give the patient a well-directed stab in the -stomach—a kind of Cæsarian section; the gas escapes, the cow survives. -Else, after standing like a pathetic statue for a few moments, it falls -heavily earthwards and “explodes inside”—a cow! Thank God we belong to -another species, else how would it have fared at the Weisses Kreuz? A -gentle cow! The episode has shattered one of my dearest illusions.</p> - -<p>This, then, must be the explanation of a strange sight which has -attracted me from time immemorial. Often, in pouring rain, you may see a -cow at pasture and its owner standing dismally near at hand, soaked to -the skin. Why, I used to wonder—why not let the beast graze by itself -and go home and get a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span> <i>Schnapps</i> and a change of clothes? Now I know. -The peasant cannot move from the spot. He dare not leave the cow alone. -He must stay there and keep his eye fixed on hers, lest that symptom -should appear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="OLD_ANNA" id="OLD_ANNA"></a>OLD ANNA</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Old Anna</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span>TOOD awhile yesterday beside a block of gneiss which projects upon the -right-hand side of the Tiefis path, some two hundred yards above the -petrifying stream, at the foot of a young oak. It has been broken long -ago, and is shaped like a very low and narrow bench. How one -changes—how one looks at things with other eyes! Is it possible that -this stone used to be my <i>Ultima Thule</i> in days of infancy; this, or the -walnut tree a little higher up, whose stump remains to this day, and -from under whose branches you had a broad view over the valley? The -upward path was shadier than now, and here, sure enough, I played -through the morning hours, while the old Anna extracted out of her -pocket that invariable <i>Frühschoppen</i> (she, being Tyrolese, called it -“merenda”)—some salted bread and a quarter of red wine. Sometimes the -same pocket produced also a chocolate for me; in fact, she had a trick -of conjuring chocolate out of the most improbable places. On one -occasion she actually shook a piece down from a tree; a miracle....</p> - -<p>Later on, the Gleziska became our favorite haunt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span> This is a flat green -meadow to the east of the village where stood, at that time, a glorious -barn containing an ante-chamber and two separate compartments full of -delicious hay to swim about in; it has now been replaced by an anæmic -structure of the new type. The first walk I ever took, all by myself, -was from the village church to the Gleziska; that was a proud day. Soon, -when my sister had learnt to toddle, the old thing took us further -afield; once as far as the church of St. Martin at Ludesch (built about -1430; some of its rare Gothic furniture is in the Bregenz Museum), where -we two discovered, in a crypt, an immense accumulation of human skulls; -we dragged four or five into the daylight, and had a game of skittles -with them.</p> - -<p>I still own a photograph of the old Anna. She is not old in the least; -about forty, I should say. There she sits at a table, half-profile, her -left arm supporting the head; she does not smile, but looks rather -vacuously into the world, as such photographs are apt to do. A pleasant, -refined face; I can read nothing else out of it. There is a suggestion -of silk about the clothing, and a black ribbon hangs down from the back -of her hair. Such was the <i>Alte Anna</i> who, being a child of nature -herself, was the ideal nurse. Her only drawback was that she had too -great a fondness for ghastly wolf-stories of the Little Red Riding Hood -type. She possessed an endless store of such<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span> tales current, no doubt, -in the Tyrol of earlier days. I wish I could still remember them, for -they would now interest me as showing how strongly the popular -imagination must have been impressed with this scourge, at which we can -at last afford to laugh. In those days they frightened me to death; they -haunted my dreams.</p> - -<p>Old Anna faded out of sight, and there came a shadowy interregnum of -German governesses, of whom I can recall nothing save that a certain -Fräulein Schubert got the sack because she had a flirtation (this was -doubtless a euphemism) with some young man in the factory offices. It -struck me as unfair that you should be sent away just because you happen -to like your friend.</p> - -<p>Herr Som followed. He was master of the boys’ school at Bludesch (there -was no school-house in our village at that time); a Swiss, I fancy, and -a well-groomed, gentlemanly fellow who often lunched at our house. To -his establishment I was now sent every morning—rather a long tramp for -a child, across all those fields, especially through the fresh-fallen -snow of winter. The school-house still exists; it is a conspicuous -three-storied building that overtops all the others in this hither side -of Bludesch; a house of noble lineage which has recently been made to -look quite new and respectable; it was built in the seventeenth century -by the family of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span> Von der Halden zu Haldenegg, who were <i>Landvogts</i> of -Blumenegg.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> The place was therefore not a school-house at all; only -two rooms had been set apart by the village elders where boys sat at -desks under Herr Som’s supervision writing in endless lines -“Schwimmmmen, Schwimmmen” (it was spelt with four, or at least three, -m’s in those days). Som must have been pleased with my progress, for I -still possess a unique document—a school report with the mark “very -good” in reading, writing and arithmetic; so pleased that, on marrying -soon afterwards, he gave my exotic name to his eldest son, the first and -last time such an honor has been conferred on me. “Schwimmmmen” is all -that sticks in my mind of Bludesch school; that, and the view up the -smiling valley from the window of the water-closet (another euphemism). -It was then and there borne in upon me how needful to such apartments is -a spacious prospect upon which the eye can dwell with pleasure. To this -attraction I should be inclined to add, now, a choice little library -and, for those of musical tastes, a pianola.</p> - -<p>Misguided Scotch relatives, in those days, used to send magnificent -dolls to my sister by post. Little<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span> they knew what they were doing: -little they knew! A parcel arrived, and somebody would say to her:</p> - -<p>“Well, I declare. This looks uncommonly like another doll. <i>Another</i> -doll! You are a lucky child, and no mistake.”</p> - -<p>My sister pretended to shriek delightedly:</p> - -<p>“Oh, let me unpack it, all alone, upstairs,” and snatched away the -parcel and ran. I followed. A glance, a single masonic glance, had been -exchanged between us. It sufficed. I knew the part I was called upon to -play.</p> - -<p>Upstairs, in some unused room, we locked the door upon our labors. The -plaything was unpacked in dead silence; a ceremonial had begun. When the -last silk-paper wrapping had been removed, my sister took the splendid -golden-haired creature into her arms and, with many false hugs and -kisses, bore it swiftly towards the garden. I followed. Not a word was -spoken. We were high priests, engaged upon some terrible but necessary -ordinance. At the foot of a certain old tree in a certain -shrubbery—always the same—she paused, and muttered certain mysterious -words into the victim’s ear. Then she handed it solemnly to me. I took -the thing by the legs, swung it through the air once or twice, and -shattered its head to fragments against the trunk. After that, we tore -it limb from limb amid a shower of sawdust and stamped on the remains. -Forthwith<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span> the spell was released, the sacrifice at an end; and we -screamed with hysterical joy.</p> - -<p>A few days later, somebody might enquire of the child:</p> - -<p>“Now where is that lovely doll you got from dear Cousin Annie?”</p> - -<p>She would reply, mournfully:</p> - -<p>“In bed. Poor little Esmeralda has a tummy-ache this morning.”</p> - -<p>This, too, was part of the rite. The words were always the same.</p> - -<p>Never a doll escaped assassination, and nobody, I believe, found out -what happened to them. My sister hated dolls with a vindictive, -unreasoning hatred. And I, of course, was only too pleased to smash -anything I was bidden to smash; and still am.</p> - -<p>Dear Cousin Annie—this one happened to be no relation at all—turned up -in this country at odd intervals, as did the rest of those stark -grand-aunts and female cousins, to our infinite annoyance. There were -scores of them, and all of a kind; musty and sententious to the last -degree. The present generation has no idea, not the faintest idea, of -what a grand-aunt used to look like in those days. Dear Cousin Annie was -a gaunt, tottering, gray-haired anatomy, who reeked of Macassar oil, and -wore massive jet beads round her neck and a tremulous drop<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span> of -rose-water at the end of her nose—just the kind of person whom a little -boy would love to kiss.</p> - -<p>“What is my name, dear?” she asked, over and over again, with a sickly -smile.</p> - -<p>You were expected to answer:</p> - -<p>“Dear—Cousin—Annie.”</p> - -<p>It was no use whatever saying, “Don’t know.” We tried it often, but the -question was only repeated with greater persistence, and a sicklier -smile than ever.</p> - -<p>Her husband had been a physician and was even more aged than she; he -exhaled an air of unbelievable eld. It occurred to me, years afterwards, -that there was something pre-Victorian and Waterlooish about those white -whiskers. He drank sherry-wine, and dishes of tea. Nevertheless, one -could have learnt much from him had one been a little older, for he was -a character, an original. Later on, in Edinburgh, I got to know him -well; he was then ninety-two, and no longer communicative. An -antiquarian of the old school, he had filled his head with queer -knowledge upon every subject, and his house with queer objects of every -kind. Judging by his pamphlets and letters to newspapers, he seems to -have taken, and rightly taken, all learning to his province. I still -possess a few of these things; who can tell how many he produced -altogether? “Protestantism in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span> Austria” begins thus: “I am desirous of -calling the attention of your readers to this subject, which is not -generally understood in Britain.” It was written here, as well as a -rather incoherent “Notice of a flood at Frastanz in the autumn of -1846.”<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> He gave me another paper written by his own father, who was -Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons and died in 1818: “Mistresses -and Servants.” How good it reads!</p> - -<p><i>B.</i> My dear Mrs. A., I am glad to see you. All well at home, I hope?</p> - -<p><i>A.</i> All well. Mr. A. is going about in his usual way, and the children -are in good health.</p> - -<p><i>B.</i> When things are so, a wife and mother may truly say: “He gives all -things richly to enjoy.”</p> - -<p>So far <i>all well</i>; but Mrs. A. promptly embarks upon her pet subject of -“plaguy servants.” Mrs. B., after an argument of sixteen pages, -recommends her to read a certain verse in St. Paul’s Epistle to the -Ephesians.</p> - -<p>Here is a short paper of his own on “Saints” (“When I was student at the -University of Edinburgh, we young fellows were displeased by our -professor, a worthy old man, constantly speaking to us<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span> of <i>Baron</i> -Haller”), and a strange composition touching the “Life of a domestic -cat”. (“I kept a record of her kittenings. They were twenty-five in -number, comprising seventy-eight individuals.”) The old fellow also -burst into poetry once or twice and perpetrated, among other things, -some flattering lines on our family of Tilquhillie entitled “Feugh and -Dee,” lines which nothing but ingrained modesty now prevents me from -reprinting, seeing that this family, though venerable enough—the oldest -in the county, they tell me—was never yet, to my knowledge, hymned in -verse, but has contrived to live on, from age to age, sufficiently -inconspicuous; inconspicuous, and all of us rather cracked into the -bargain. See, for a recent example, Dean Ramsay’s “Reminiscences.”</p> - -<p>Thereafter came an epoch when those in authority seem to have reached a -sensible conclusion, to wit, that English children should not only speak -English, but also learn to read and write it. A governess was required. -In due course of time she arrived; and her name was Miss Prime. We -straightway called her Miss Prim, or “the Prim”; it suited her -admirably. Her hair was parted down the middle; indeed, she was prim all -over, but her pedagogic system proved a failure. Miss Prim must have had -an indifferent time of it here, so far as the children were concerned. -Her disciplinary measures never obtained the desired effect. When my -sister was told to stand on a bench<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span> for some misdemeanor, she made such -contortions at me that it was impossible for lessons to proceed; she was -next put into a corner facing the wall, where the contortions continued -more violently than ever, only this time with the back part of her body; -at last she was locked up all by herself in a distant room, whence there -presently issued such a din of crashing furniture that the people -downstairs rushed up, asking whether the end of the world had come. In -this particular room stood an enormous double bed; it inspired her with -a brilliant method of eluding punishment for good and all.</p> - -<p>“Crawl under here,” she suggested, “whenever the Prim want us <i>for -anything</i> (euphemism). She can never pull us out.”</p> - -<p>She couldn’t. Under that bed we remained for hours, contentedly munching -cakes and crunching sweets which had been stuffed into the mattress to -meet contingencies such as these, until the Prim implored us, almost on -her knees, to come out again. At other times, before or after “lessons,” -we indulged in prolonged and uproarious fights between ourselves. “It -will end in a howl,” my mother was wont to remark on such occasions.</p> - -<p>Nobody need tell me what we required: a thorough good spanking. Who was -going to administer it? Had my father not died when I was five, he would -doubtless have attended to the matter. He could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span> hurt confoundedly, he -could. I have bright memories of one of his spankings when, after -performing a war-dance on some bed of newly planted portulacas, I found -myself suddenly seized by the scruff of the neck and carried at arm’s -length rabbit-fashion, dangling and kicking in air, into a conservatory. -<i>En route</i>, I had barely time to shout to the old Anna “Wait till I’m -spanked!”—we were going for a walk—before I got it hotter, far hotter, -than usual. That is the way to spank children. Never do it unless you -are really angry yourself. Otherwise they will regard you as a -cold-blooded torturer.</p> - -<p>As to the Prim—I should like to have seen her tackling either of us two -seriously. Even my sister, tiny as she was, would have throttled her to -death, and then dropped her out of the window. She was regarded as a -poor joke, and that is why her teaching hardly met with the success it -deserved, and why I was therefore soon to be sent to an English private -school, loathsomest of institutions, and thence to other schools, and -yet other schools—there to be crammed for such a length of time with -such a superfluity of useless learning, and by such a variety of -unwholesome-looking gentlemen of different ages and nationalities, that -I am only now, at the end of all these years, beginning to shake off the -bad effects and discover my true self again. That fetish of education!</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Miss Prim, during one of her holiday<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span> visits to England, had -succeeded in getting engaged. She imparted the happy news to our family, -with becoming shyness, a few hours after her return; she wondered -whether her fiancé might ever come out here, and proceed with his -courtship on foreign soil, for a week or so? Why, of course he could; -let him come when he pleased, and stay as long as ever he liked! In due -course of time he arrived; and his name was Mr. Clutterbuck. -Clutterbuck. Clutterbuck. The name alone sent us into fits; we thought -it an incomparably funny one, as indeed it is. Mr. Clutterbuck, himself, -was a droll and pertinacious individual. He used to sit, rod in hand, -trying to catch trout in the reservoirs. Everybody told him he would -never get a nibble there—the fish were far too well-fed; why not try a -fly on the Tabalada stream, at the bottom of the valley near Gais, the -fishing of which also belonged to us?</p> - -<p>No. Mr. Clutterbuck preferred the reservoirs. He would sit on that stone -margin morning and afternoon, while the Prim hovered lovingly in his -neighborhood. There I see him sitting to this day.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>The only way to get these pampered beasts out of the reservoir is by the -prosaic method of draining off<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span> the water. Then you have them! Now just -remove your trousers and wade into the mud, if you do not mind looking -like a fool, and pull them out with your hands, which is far more -exciting sport than you might imagine. Only then is it possible to -realize how slippery and muscular a trout can be when taken, not off a -hook after an hour’s playing, but fresh from its element. We used to do -this periodically in later years, and some of the fish were of -respectable size. The largest I remember catching weighed a fraction -over four kilograms and was seventy-six centimeters in length. He kicked -like an electric dynamo.</p> - -<p>We happened to be going that afternoon to a friend in Bregenz and -decided to make him a present of this trout, particularly as he had a -far-famed Viennese <i>chef</i> who claimed to be able to make a succulent -ragout out of the Devil himself. As there was no time for a special box -to be built, we requisitioned the newly made coffin of a child that had -died overnight but was happily not yet bestowed therein; our monster was -packed inside, comfortably wrapped up in green nettles. The baby could -wait; the trout was <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span>in a hurry....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span> </p> -<h2><a name="SCHLINS" id="SCHLINS"></a>SCHLINS</h2> - -<p class="chead"><i>Schlins</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HERE is a sense of sudden departure in the air.</p> - -<p>We shall know the worst, to-morrow, or next day....</p> - -<p>Lasko’s well has not moved from its old place. It lies about a hundred -yards west of the “Château aux fenêtres.” The wooden trough into which -the water trickles—one of its many successors—looks the same as ever; -I am glad it has not yet been converted into a basin of cement, like -those in the village below.</p> - -<p>The transformation of wood into cement is proceeding relentlessly all -over the country; to my infinite disgust. Those numerous wooden -watertroughs for the use of householders and their cattle, which used to -be quite a feature of the streets, are now all being manufactured out of -this damnably durable material; there is a cement-factory near our -station, and I wish somebody would drop a bomb on it. Cement has invaded -domestic architecture, as was inevitable. Inevitable things are not -always pleasant, and not always pretty. It is hard to imagine anything -more infamous, on a small scale, than the prison-like gray garden walls -which have replaced<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span> those delightful wooden palings through whose -meshes a riot of flowers would come tumbling out upon the road; the -spacious wooden houses, so full of charm and individuality, so redolent -of patriarchal well-being, with their shingles and gables burnt to a -glowing umber-brown by years and years of sunshine, are being discarded -in favor of weedy little cement abominations that make one sorry for -people who have to live in them. They look cheap; they are cheap. I wish -they were dear, for cheap things are seldom attractive, and life in -cheap and ugly homes cannot fail to give their inmates a corresponding -bent of mind.</p> - -<p>Not a single wooden bridge is left over Lutz or Ill. They were swept -away, every one of them, in the floods of 1910 and 1911 and now, for the -first time, their place is taken by solid but hideous structures of -cement. One is sorry to let the old ones go; one calls to mind the -bridge at Ludesch built as long ago as 1498 and ever since then kept in -repair, with its sloping wooden roof, its sudden twilight within and -odor of hot fir-wood, as of a scented tunnel; one remembers the soft -tread of the horses’ feet on the powdery beams and the sound of creaking -timbers underfoot. They are eyesores, these new things; they will remain -eyesores.</p> - -<p>Now a new road is an eyesore too, ruthlessly hacked, as it is, through -the landscape; and nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span> every road hereabouts, great or small, has -been cut afresh within the last generation. No great harm in this, -however, since roads have a knack of growing old again; you need only -wait; lichens and grass and brushwood will presently creep up to hide -the scars. There is nothing to be done with palings and bridges and -troughs and houses of cement; nothing, save to stand aside and curse -them. For the æsthetic drawback of cement, that godsend to lazy -builders, lies in its agelessness and lack of character; if it grows old -at all, it grows even more horrible than in youth. But men are becoming -blind to these and other uglifications—the word is not quite ugly -enough for the thing—of the scenery and of their houses. For instance: -forty-one unseemly electric wires converge at the post-office of our -small village; there they are, so repulsive that you cannot but look at -them; the women of the place, instead of feeding chickens or mending the -children’s clothes, spend their lives in gossiping with each other at -long distances, and God alone knows the nonsense they find to chatter -about. Go where you please, in fact, and you cannot fail to perceive -half a dozen decorative telegraph poles staring you in the face. Now why -do people want all this ridiculous electricity rushing up and down the -country? Solidarity. Brotherhood of men....</p> - -<p>Lasko’s well——</p> - -<p>No; it has not moved from its old place. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span> we looked in vain for -those “Wasserkälber” which were always to be found lying at its bottom -in olden days. Indeed, I have not seen a single “Wasserkälb” since my -arrival here. Are they extinct?<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></p> - -<p>We called him Lasko; but it was not till many years afterwards, at an -English public school, that I learnt that Lasko really meant anything. -And we called it Lasko’s well, because it was here that Lasko, our black -retriever, lapped up some water on his last walk, the day before his -death. After that, we made it a rule that every one of our dogs, as -often as we passed this place, should drink at the trough in memory of -dear old Lasko, whether he happened to be thirsty or not; if he refused, -his head was held under the water till he had imbibed, willy-nilly, -something like the requisite amount of liquid. To this treatment were -submitted:</p> - -<p>(1) Lasko the Second, a worthless yellow brute who, having been altered -in youth, was of so timorous a disposition that it became our greatest -delight to get somebody to fire off a gun in his immediate neighborhood, -and watch him flee for his life.</p> - -<p>(2) Sippins, who belonged to my sister and to the “Affenpincher” -breed—that is, to so small and strange-looking a canine variety that -the boys were<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span> wont to call him a Chinese rat; all of which did not -prevent him from having fleas. One wonders whether those enthusiasts, -who declare that dogs have no fleas, are in earnest. Have they ever -looked for them? Sippins was flea’d, during the summer, twice a day by a -maid who deposited the insects in a saucer containing alcohol, and in my -boyish journal I record “136 fleas caught from Sippins at a single -time”—Sippins himself, as aforesaid, being about the size of a -full-grown rat. Now Sippins objected strongly to this water-cure at -Lasko’s well. He had been born and educated at Munich; he only touched -water when no beer was procurable; he could drink like a lord, like a -fish; but only beer. It was not long, therefore, before it became one of -our principal pastimes to “make Sippins drunk.” He seldom knew when to -stop.</p> - -<p>(3) MacDougall, a Skye-terrier belonging to me, of so pure a breed that -you never knew whether he was walking forwards or backwards. He was an -anomaly among quadrupeds; nothing approaching his style had been seen in -this country before. His talent consisted in enticing cats down from -walls and trees and other inaccessible situations by his mere -appearance; the cats, seemingly, being unable to resist the temptation -of inspecting at close quarters this freak of nature, this animated -hearth-rug. Once on the ground, they were doomed to a violent death,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span> -for they never dreamt it was a dog. Need I say what our chief diversion -with MacDougall used to be? One of his most brilliant exploits took -place in Bludesch at our tailor’s—who was also our haircutter; whence, -for many years, I found it difficult to realize that tailoring and -haircutting were separate professions—where dwelt a family of cats, a -mother and half a dozen kittens. The operation took less than a minute -to perform, while we looked on amazed and, ten to one, amused; two -shakes for the mother, half a shake each for the kittens; the entire -family laid out flat on the grass, dead as doornails, side by side; -whereupon he trotted up to us, right end forward, saying plainly: -“<i>How’s that?</i>” And we doubtless replied: “Oh, MacDougall! Do it again.” -Very cruel children, we were....</p> - -<p>Straight up, from Lasko’s well, and once more to that inspiring portal -of green, where the path to Tiefis enters the cavern-like forest. To-day -those curtain-fringes of the dark firs are waving softly to and fro, -stirred by a tepid Fön wind. Now down again, past sundry erratic blocks -and through the newly planted tract to the “nymphe pudique”—the source -of the crayfish stream, which we intend to pursue all the way to -Schlins. A good deal of that fair swamp growth has been cut since our -last visit; enough remains to please the eye. The vale grows wider after -the Tiefis-Bludesch road has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span> crossed, and the rushes denser; one -realizes why the peasants have called this rivulet “Ried-bach.” It -meanders in desultory fashion about this upper marshy level; then -plunges, all of a sudden, into the wood, and puts on a new character. A -downhill career begins in earnest. Rapids are formed, and islets; all in -the deep shade of those trees through which it glimmers obscurely along. -A kingfisher haunts these dusky reaches (there is another on the upper -Montiola brook); scenery such as this must have been in Poe’s mind when -he wrote “The Island of the Fay.” Soon we pass a small abandoned -reservoir; it is the second spot in the district where bulrushes can be -found—the third is near Bludenz; after that comes a stretch of country -difficult to follow, steep and irregular, a stretch of tortuous windings -and cascades, till the lower level of Schlins is reached, where the -brook enters upon its final phase, gliding demurely, like our own -Feldbächle, through cultivated meadows at the foot of Jagdberg.</p> - -<p>It stands to reason that we straightway found ourselves sitting at the -Krone inn, wistful at the thought that this might be our last visit -here. The proprietress is a sweet-natured woman and a stimulating -conversationalist; we talked and talked, while Mr. R. partook of his -traditional two eggs and insisted moreover in drinking “Suser,” freshly -made cider,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span> in spite of my warning about the probable consequences of -such rash behavior, namely, an attack of the “Holde Katarina,” the “Fair -Katherine,” which signifies a loosening of the bowels. The expression is -remarkable as showing the prudishness of these folk in regard to bodily -matters of every kind; alter a letter in that name, and you may divine -its origin. All such things are slurred over, even by grown-up people. -So female dogs are always known as “he”; incredible to relate, our -much-married dachshund-lady is “he.” How different from Mediterranean -countries where sexuality and every other physiological fact is taken -for granted by the smallest children, and emphasized as such; where even -inanimate objects are apt to be invested with the attributes of sex! -Here we stand before a racial divergence of outlook; a gulf.</p> - -<p>The cider-harvest promises well. But I have long ago given up pretending -to enjoy this drink, and find it hard to believe that the first time I -ever got tipsy was on such mawkish stuff. Yet so it was. Needless to -say, it was not my own fault; other people were mixed up in the affair; -Jakob, and my sister. Jakob was a smiling, sunburnt villager who looked -after our cows and pigs and also helped at the hay-making; the accident, -therefore, must have occurred at the present season of the year. Now -whatever Jakob did, he did with such peculiar zest that it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span> a -liberal education to watch him. Nobody could <i>dengel</i> quite like he -could (to <i>dengel</i> is to beat out the blade of a scythe); he threw his -heart and soul into the performance. And nobody could quaff cider with -such infinite gusto; it made you thirsty to look at him. Wherever he -happened to be mowing among the fields, there, close at hand, in the -shade of some tree, stood his jug of blue stoneware out of which he -refreshed himself gloriously, in god-like fashion, from time to time. -When it was empty, he was wont to disappear down the stairs of the -laundry into certain mysterious regions underneath our house and come -back with the jug refilled; and this is where my sister’s rôle begins. -She was three years old at the time; the suggestion, therefore, can only -have come from her; the suggestion, I mean, that we should watch where -Jakob went and then get some cider for ourselves. It was another world -down there, a cool twilight passage running the whole length of the -house, with vaulted chambers on both sides that were lighted by windows -ever so high up. One of them was full of barrels side by side, and one -of those barrels was still dripping. Aha! So that was where Jakob filled -his jug. Now just the least little turn of the tap, and the liquid began -to trickle deliciously down our throats, while we egged each other on to -drink more and more. I have no idea how long we stayed down there. The -country<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span>side was scoured in vain; all traces of the children had -disappeared, and had it not been for Jakob providentially descending to -fetch himself yet another jugful, we might have remained undiscovered -till next morning. As it was, we were picked up senseless and put to -bed.</p> - -<p>Seven o’clock—how long one has lingered in this pleasant tavern! Now we -leave, after many farewellings, and wander homewards due east, not -passing the church at all; we cross the streamlet which has accompanied -us hither and immediately enter that wood, familiar by this time, the -once awe-inspiring forest of the——. It is already dark here, under the -firs, but the rich, resinous perfumes of daylight are still hanging in -the air; no dew has fallen to quench them. So we move along the dim path -in silence; we have talked ourselves out, at Schlins.</p> - -<p>All those squirrels—what has become of them? In olden days you could -seldom traverse any wood hereabouts without encountering one or more. -Now, during the whole of our stay here, we have seen but two; one black, -one red. Where are they gone? I enquired, and learnt that they had not -been persecuted during the war, as were the moles. To be sure, certain -persons eat squirrels and declare them to be excellent; they did this -already in the days when these animals were numerous. In England, also, -the race seems to be dying out. Has there been some<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span> epidemic, or is the -whole squirrel-tribe growing weary of life and contemptuous of the joys -of propagation? Quite lonesome these forests are, without their -squirrels. As to the crested tits—they seem to have vanished -altogether; in fact, the entire titmouse tribe is far less common than -it used to be. Have their nesting-places grown rarer or are they, too, -becoming ascetic? We have wandered leagues and leagues about these -woodlands, and not once have I heard that melodious trill; not once.</p> - -<p>Out, into the odorous <i>pré des papillons</i>, into a fading, greenish-gray -atmosphere, a kind of elf-land. All is moist here, and mysterious. An -owl sallies forth on our left and circles twice directly overhead, so -close that we can discern her eyes and beak. Then up through misty -fields past a decrepit hay-hut, one of the survivors of the old school -like that near the crayfish-stream, one of those whose planks are -encrusted with sulphur-hued lichen. Now Mr. R. produces his talisman and -plays as we walk in the gloaming; many new <i>morceaux</i> have been “found” -since that day at Blumenegg. Our last concert, possibly! And just when I -was beginning to appreciate, and even understand—which is far more -difficult—this aboriginal music with its up-to-date names!</p> - -<p>Marching along I review, in fancy, the many scenes which have lately -flitted before our eyes, and one little memory creeps up among the -throng; I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span> think it will end in submerging them all. It was what we saw -a few days ago during our latest stroll to the ruined Jagdberg. I make a -point, namely, of losing myself on the way there (it is quite easy; you -have only to bear a little to the north in the woods) because, in so -doing, you never fail to see something, however insignificant, which you -never saw before. So it fell out. We duly lost our way and, floundering -down a thickly wooded incline, came to the margin of a small -crescent-shaped bog, surrounded by old firs. It was as solitary a spot -as you might wish to find; for all one knew, the foot of man had never -trodden here. Now I have spoken of the many-tinted vegetation of these -marshy tracts. This one, for reasons which a botanist may expound, was -of another nature. It had been dedicated wholly to gentians.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> They -shot up from the wet moss—a blaze of the most perfect blue on earth. -Theirs was not a steady light, but shimmering and playful, and of a -luster so intense that no African sky, no sapphire, could have rivaled -it. I plucked one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">{241}</a></span> these portentous flowers. It measured nearly the -length of my walking-stick and was alive with color from end to end. -Conceive a hundred thousand of them, all huddled together among those -somber trees. We seemed to be looking down into a lake of blue fire.</p> - -<p>Here, I think, is a memory to cherish; a vision to carry away into other -lands.</p> - -<p class="cspc"> </p> - -<p>Sunday, 3 September. Departure! We leave by the 1 a.m. train to-night.</p> - -<p>And it would not be hard to guess where we went this afternoon, for a -final stroll.</p> - -<p>There, in the well-known room, was the “old one” as well as her husband, -and the baby looking prettier than ever since her holiday at -Thüringerberg; there also were some twenty other people, peasant-folk, -chatting at tables, and smoking and drinking beer. Sunday! We had -overlooked this fact. And there they would sit, till all hours of the -night. “Not much chance of <i>embrassez-moi</i> in here,” I thought, as I -looked round. Mr. R. remained in the open doorway, and his -disappointment took a tragic turn. He said bitterly:</p> - -<p>“What are all our pleasant walks and talks worth<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">{242}</a></span> now? Ah, I shall have -nothing but unhappy memories of your country.”</p> - -<p>“That you shall not,” I declared. “Nobody is to have unhappy memories of -my country, if I can help it. Now this is a moment for heroic measures, -and one little thing has just dawned upon me; what cannot be done inside -a room, may be done outside. Let us sit down, while you order your eggs. -I have it. I have it already. Those eggs.... How lucky you are fond of -eggs. How lucky you have a friend who knows why eggs were created!”</p> - -<p>We gave our orders.</p> - -<p>“What on earth am I to do?” asked Mr. R.</p> - -<p>“You will presently leave the room, without turning round to look at -anybody. Go into the orchard at the back of the house, and wait there. -When the baby arrives, I give you thirty seconds together. Employ them -in a laughing and brotherly fashion, as I told you the other day. Then -you, at least, will return straight here. Thirty seconds. If you mean to -obey to the letter, swear it. Else no baby till the crack of doom. Now, -swear.”</p> - -<p>Whereupon Mr. R. swore a great oath in the Mediterranean manner, on the -head, or the honor—on both, I fancy—of his own mother, to obey to the -letter.</p> - -<p>“Thirty seconds,” I went on. “Imagine otherwise what might happen if the -old one grew sus<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">{243}</a></span>picious and went into the orchard! And she may well be -suspicious, after those marconigrams of the other day. What would she -think of us two conspirators? How about my reputation here, in the only -country where, by good luck, I have not yet been found out; where my -family name is a byword for all that is upright and honorable; where my -father, my grandfather.... Just let me hear you swear again.”</p> - -<p>Whereupon he swore a second great oath, to the same effect as the first, -on the souls of all his dead ancestors, male and female.</p> - -<p>“Thirty seconds.... You can go now. And listen! Clasp her firmly if you -get the chance, or you may bungle the whole affair, and these are the -little accidents one never forgives oneself. After all, it would be a -queer baby who objected to being embraced for thirty seconds by such an -affectionate elder brother. Why should she?”</p> - -<p>“I was going to do that anyhow.”</p> - -<p>He departed; and presently the fateful eggs arrived and remained on the -table one minute, two minutes. I beckoned Dorothea to my side:</p> - -<p>“Will you go and fetch my friend? His eggs are getting cold. You may -find him in the orchard; he is fond of orchards. <i>Run!</i>” and I gave her -a gentle push. Whether she perceived the strategy or not, she was off -like an arrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">{244}</a></span></p> - -<p>What happened under those apple-trees I shall learn in due course of -time, by the simple expedient of asking no questions. Up to this moment -I only know that Mr. R. returned alone, and sat down to his eggs with a -not unsuccessful air of <i>insouciance</i>. The baby, I suspect, was in the -kitchen, cooling down that wonderful complexion, and her mother would -doubtless have gone to look for her there, had I not meanwhile entangled -her into a complicated discussion anent the manufacture of Kirschwasser, -a specialty of this village. Thirty thousand kronen a liter, she vowed, -was what they were asking for it. Who was going to pay thirty thousand -kronen? Well, it struck me that one shilling and sixpence for a bottle -and a quarter of the finest Kirschwasser on earth was a fairly -reasonable price.</p> - -<p>So far good. I came well out of that little episode....</p> - -<p>Endless are the other things we have left undone. Why, we have not even -been up the Walserthal, nor so much as an inch in the direction of that -fairest of all our alps, the Gamperdona behind Nenzing, where twelve -hundred cows are munching and mooing day and night. (The Montavon valley -may take care of itself; it is full of tourists). And of hills, real -hills, nothing has been climbed save the poor old Scesaplana. I had -intended to take Mr. R. on some mountain which has more flavor to it, -even though it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">{245}</a></span> be not so high—the Drei Schwestern, for instance, above -Frastanz, about which my father also wrote a paper; or the Widderstein, -or the Kanisfluh. There, on the Kanisfluh, he might have satisfied his -craving for edelweiss.</p> - -<p>No matter. The mountains can wait for another season.</p> - -<p>One is sorry, none the less, not to have witnessed the boisterous -procession of cattle returning from their summer pastures, the woodlands -changing to gold, and that first September hoar-frost which melts at -noon, when drops of moisture glisten on every spider-web; sorry not to -have seen the gay fungus-people starting out of the dank earth. And here -are plums on their trees, almost ripe. Such a crop there never was. -Another week, and they would have been ready to be converted into the -first of those ambrosial tarts which are smothered, at the last moment, -under a deluge of whipped cream and then devoured so dutifully that, on -rising from table, you cannot but feel a kind of bewildered reverence -for the capacity of the human stomach. Only another week: how provoking!</p> - -<p>No matter. We have had a breath of fresh air together.</p> - -<p class="fint">THE END</p> - -<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> - -<p class="c"><a href="#A">A</a>, -<a href="#B">B</a>, -<a href="#C">C</a>, -<a href="#D">D</a>, -<a href="#E">E</a>, -<a href="#F">F</a>, -<a href="#G">G</a>, -<a href="#H">H</a>, -<a href="#I">I</a>, -<a href="#J">J</a>, -<a href="#K">K</a>, -<a href="#L">L</a>, -<a href="#M">M</a>, -<a href="#N">N</a>, -<a href="#O">O</a>, -<a href="#P">P</a>, -<a href="#Q">Q</a>, -<a href="#R">R</a>, -<a href="#S">S</a>, -<a href="#T">T</a>, -<a href="#V">V</a>, -<a href="#W">W</a>, -<a href="#Z">Z</a></p> - -<p class="chead"><i>Index</i></p> - -<p class="nind"> -<i><a name="A" id="A"></a>Adneter Kalk</i>, pink marble, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Aldertree, connected with name of province, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Alemannic settlement of province, <a href="#page_62">62</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">specimen of dialect, <a href="#page_139">139</a></span><br /> - -<i>Algäu-schiefer</i>, Liassic shale, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a><br /> - -Alpila, alp, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> - -Alpine rose (rhododendron), <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a><br /> - -Anna, the old nurse, her passion for idiots and corpses, <a href="#page_39">39-40</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">for wolf-stories, <a href="#page_214">214</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gets it hot, <a href="#page_95">95</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">shakes chocolate from a tree, <a href="#page_213">213</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">not old at all, <a href="#page_214">214</a></span><br /> - -Ants, unreliable workmen, <a href="#page_124">124</a><br /> - -Aretius, botanist, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Arlberg, mountain pass, boundary of province, <a href="#page_53">53</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">railway under, <a href="#page_150">150</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_153">153</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wine transport over, <a href="#page_197">197</a></span><br /> - -Aurora borealis, <a href="#page_5">5</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="B" id="B"></a>Badger, a tame, <a href="#page_28">28</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its fat, <a href="#page_116">116</a></span><br /> - -Bädle inn (Nüziders), <a href="#page_186">186</a><br /> - -Bädle inn (Tiefis), <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Baedeker, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -<i>Bährenloch</i>, artificial cavern, <a href="#page_26">26-28</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Bats, as pets, <a href="#page_28">28</a><br /> - -Bears, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> - -Beautification Society, of Bludenz, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Blumenegg, <a href="#page_172">172</a></span><br /> - -Beaver, shot on the Elbe, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Beds, local, their discomforts, <a href="#page_3">3</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">double, their uses, <a href="#page_222">222</a></span><br /> - -Bergmann, Prof. Joseph, <a href="#page_53">53</a><br /> - -Berlepsch, H. A., <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> - -Bernhardt, B. (Velcurio), the first married priest, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -Birds, various, <a href="#page_125">125-130</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Blaufelchen</i>, <a href="#page_206">206-208</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> Coregonus.</span><br /> - -Bludenz, town, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">destroyed by fire, <a href="#page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its museum, <a href="#page_139">139</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">height above sea-level, <a href="#page_184">184</a></span><br /> - -Bludesch, village, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its former vineyards, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">old school-house, <a href="#page_215">215</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Krone inn, <a href="#page_216">216</a></span><br /> - -Blumenegg, castle-ruin, origin of name, <a href="#page_72">72</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its charm and history, <a href="#page_74">74-80</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">waterfall, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">popular reception of its lords, <a href="#page_55">55</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their enactments, <a href="#page_136">136</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">contrasted with Jagdberg ruin, <a href="#page_174">174</a></span><br /> - -Boar, wild, <a href="#page_187">187</a><br /> - -Bock, Hieronymus, botanist, <a href="#page_73">73</a><br /> - -Bolshevism, manufacture of, <a href="#page_113">113</a><br /> - -Brand, village, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Bratz, village, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Bregenz, town, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">museum and libraries, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Protestant cemetery, <a href="#page_200">200</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ostensible reasons for going there, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">real reason, <a href="#page_206">206</a></span><br /> - -Bregenzerwald, district, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a><br /> - -Brehm, A. E., <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Bruhin, Th. A., monk-naturalist, <a href="#page_91">91-93</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on woodpecker, <a href="#page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on <i>salamandra maculosa</i>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on wild beasts of province, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Professor at Meherau, <a href="#page_199">199</a></span><br /> - -<i>Brunnenmacher</i> (father) mountaineer, presumably hirsute, <a href="#page_25">25</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(son) mountaineer, indubitably hirsute, <a href="#page_25">25</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his smile and his blasphemies, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">takes author in hand, <a href="#page_28">28</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a></span><br /> - -Buchboden, village, <a href="#page_91">91</a><br /> - -Bulrushes, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Bürs, village, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Bürserberg, village, <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> - -Butter, smuggled into Switzerland, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Butterflies, various, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">frozen on snowfield, <a href="#page_158">158</a></span><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="C" id="C"></a>Capercailzie, <a href="#page_60">60-61</a><br /> - -Castle-ruins, their charming designations, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Celtic inhabitants of province, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hill-fort, <a href="#page_151">151</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">place-names, <a href="#page_169">169</a></span><br /> - -Cement, an abomination, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Cemeteries, poetic German names for, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -Chamois, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">shoots taken by Swiss, <a href="#page_33">33</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">how to bag, <a href="#page_157">157</a></span><br /> - -“Château aux fenêtres.” <i>See</i> Jordan<br /> - -<i>Chronicon Hirsaugiense</i>, destroyed by fire, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Cider, getting tipsy on, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Climate, grows damper, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> - -Clutterbuck, Mr., a droll personage, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Cocoa, an abomination, <a href="#page_10">10</a><br /> - -Cockchafer. <i>See</i> Engerlinge.<br /> - -Coffee, how to roast, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -Constance, lake of, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Coregonus</i>, a delectable fish, <a href="#page_206">206</a><br /> - -Costumes, local, <a href="#page_53">53</a><br /> - -Cotterill, H. B., <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Cotton mills, family property, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a><br /> - -Cows, explode from over-eating, <a href="#page_208">208</a><br /> - -Crayfish, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -<i>Crétins</i>, not discoverable hereabouts, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> - -Currency, effects of its depreciation, <a href="#page_109">109-15</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="D" id="D"></a>Dachshund, lady-dog, sets a bad example, <a href="#page_4">4</a><br /> - -Dalaas, village, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -Dalla Torre, Prof. quoted, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Dolls, massacre of, <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -<i>Dorfberg</i>, an ancient road, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a><br /> - -Dornbirn, borough, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> - -Douglass, John, why he settled in Austria, <a href="#page_62">62</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his way with beggars, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_66">66</a></span><br /> - -Douglass, John Sholto, climbs the Zimba, <a href="#page_21">21-23</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">president of provincial Alpine Club, <a href="#page_24">24</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">carries on business of his father, <a href="#page_66">66</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his paper on Rothe Wand, <a href="#page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fatal accident, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_148">148-150</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">writings, <a href="#page_150">150-154</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lünersee hut called after him, <a href="#page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">discovers mammoth-tusk, <a href="#page_181">181</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his disciplinary measures, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a></span><br /> - -Drei Schwestern, mountain, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> - -Druso, Drusenfluh, etc., pre-Roman names, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Drusus, Roman general, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Düns, village, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="E" id="E"></a>Edelweiss, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> - -Edelraute, plant, <a href="#page_143">143</a><br /> - -Education, in France, <a href="#page_14">14</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a sound, <a href="#page_40">40</a></span><br /> - -Elephant-trap, a disused, <a href="#page_117">117</a><br /> - -Elk, discovery of skull and horns of, <a href="#page_139">139</a><br /> - -Els alp, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -Elser Schröfen, cliffs, crossing their talus, <a href="#page_145">145-147</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">due to disrupture, <a href="#page_147">147</a></span><br /> - -<i>Engerlinge</i>, cockchafer-larvæ, destructive to crops, <a href="#page_110">110</a><br /> - -Erratic blocks, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Eulenloch, dell, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="F" id="F"></a>Falling in love, with a mountain, <a href="#page_30">30</a><br /> - -Falster, torrent, <a href="#page_72">72</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Feldbächle, stream, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">going to bed in, <a href="#page_63">63</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> Montiola.</span><br /> - -Feldkirch, town, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">former vineyards at, <a href="#page_197">197</a></span><br /> - -Fire, destruction of villages by <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_126">126-128</a><br /> - -Fishery regulations of 1690, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Florimont. <i>See</i> Blumenegg.<br /> - -Flowers, favorite, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -Fön wind, derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">responsible for outbreaks of fire, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">transports butterflies, <a href="#page_158">158</a></span><br /> - -Fontanella, village, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> - -Food, local specialties, <a href="#page_11">11-12</a><br /> - -“Forêt nordique,” tract of wood, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Forests, their charm, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -Formaletsch, mountain, <a href="#page_139">139</a><br /> - -Formarin lake, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Fossils, where found, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Fox, as pet, <a href="#page_28">28</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">civil behavior of a, <a href="#page_182">182</a></span><br /> - -Frastafeders, castle-ruin, <a href="#page_63">63</a><br /> - -Frastanz, village, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">battle of, <a href="#page_220">220</a></span><br /> - -Freiburger hut, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Freytag, Gustav, <a href="#page_80">80</a><br /> - -Furkla alp, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="G" id="G"></a>Gais, locality, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_66">66</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Galgen-tobel, torrent, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Gamperdona, alp, <a href="#page_244">244</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Gamsboden, mountain, <a href="#page_143">143</a> <i>seq.</i><br /> - -Garnets, hunting for, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -Gasünd, hamlet, <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> - -Geiger, Dr., prescribes only camomile, <a href="#page_46">46</a><br /> - -Gentians, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Gesner, Conrad, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Gleziska, meadow, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a><br /> - -Gluttony, when to be discouraged, <a href="#page_12">12</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">when permissible, <a href="#page_13">13</a></span><br /> - -Goats, legislation regarding, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Goitre, <a href="#page_43">43</a><br /> - -Grabherr, Joseph, on Blumenegg rule, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Grand-aunts, the delight of childhood, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Grandfather, maternal, a feudal monster, always spick-and-span, <a href="#page_200">200</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">excavates in imagination the Acropolis of Athens, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tells Prince Consort how to handle Queen Victoria, <a href="#page_202">202</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sometimes mistaken for an angel, <a href="#page_203">203</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dominates his harim, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">vicious to the last, <a href="#page_205">205</a></span><br /> - -Grandmother, paternal, applies Gregory’s Powder with unexpected result, <a href="#page_97">97</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">her attitude towards tobacco, <a href="#page_100">100</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">insists upon recitations of “Marmion” and gets them, <a href="#page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">devours roly-poly <i>pour encourager les autres</i>, <a href="#page_104">104</a></span><br /> - -Grimm’s Fairy Tales, occasionally inane, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Gross Litzner, mountain, <a href="#page_144">144</a><br /> - -Gstinswald, forest, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="H" id="H"></a>Halde Wässerle, spring, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Halden zu Haldenegg, von der, noble family, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Haller, A. von, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Hanging Stone, cliff, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a><br /> - -Hard, village, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Hare, how to shoot, <a href="#page_127">127</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">how not to cook, <a href="#page_207">207</a></span><br /> - -Hay-huts, change in style of building, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Hexenthurm, rock-needle, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Hinedo, Peter, author, <a href="#page_14">14</a><br /> - -Hirsch-sprung (Stag’s Leap), meadow, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a><br /> - -Hochgerach, mountain, <a href="#page_6">6</a><br /> - -Hohenems, borough, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Hoher Frassen, mountain, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death on, <a href="#page_24">24</a></span><br /> - -Honstetter, Karl, taxidermist, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Horse-flies, a pest, <a href="#page_61">61</a><br /> - -Hüttenwanzen, not wanted hereabouts, <a href="#page_25">25</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="I" id="I"></a>Ibex, a Swiss, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Idiots, <a href="#page_13">13</a>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">indifferent specimens of, <a href="#page_38">38</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">types of the old school, <a href="#page_39">39</a></span><br /> - -Ill, river, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">recently embanked, <a href="#page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its prehistoric shore, <a href="#page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">new bridges over, <a href="#page_230">230</a></span><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="J" id="J"></a>Jagdberg, castle-ruin, <a href="#page_172">172-176</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Jakob, a villager worth watching, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -Jordan, ruined mansion, <a href="#page_163">163</a> <i>seq.</i>, <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> - -Josefinum, refuge for children, <a href="#page_172">172</a> <i>seq.</i><br /> - -Jumbo the jovial, not like the rest of them, <a href="#page_91">91</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="K" id="K"></a>Kanisfluh, mountain, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> - -Kaufmann, Angelika, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a><br /> - -Keilpolster, an abomination, <a href="#page_3">3</a><br /> - -Kirschwasser, present price of, <a href="#page_244">244</a><br /> - -Kloster alp, awful experience on, <a href="#page_7">7</a><br /> - -Krupsertobel, torrent, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Kuhloch, natural arch, <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="L" id="L"></a>Lämmergeier, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Lagutz, alp, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Lake dwellings, former, destroyed by fire, <a href="#page_71">71</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">persist into Roman times, <a href="#page_151">151</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">relics of, <a href="#page_152">152</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their grape-cultivation, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> - -Lamb, Charles, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -<i>Landregen</i>, a persistent drizzle, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Lasko, dog, his well, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Lasko the Second, dog, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Latz, hamlet, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Lauterach, village, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lech, river, <a href="#page_53">53</a><br /> - -Lech, village, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Lindau, island, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lindenspeur, G. L. von, builder of Jordan mansion, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fond of windows, <a href="#page_165">165</a></span><br /> - -Lorüns, village, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Ludesch, village, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its rifle range, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_62">62</a></span><br /> - -Ludescherberg, hamlet, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Lünersee, lake, its shelter-hut, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Lutz, river, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">recently embanked, <a href="#page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its prehistoric shore, <a href="#page_116">116</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">old bridge over, <a href="#page_230">230</a></span><br /> - -Lynx, <a href="#page_187">187</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="M" id="M"></a>MacDougal, Skye-terrier, specializes in cats, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Mammoth tusk, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Mangili, Prof., <a href="#page_9">9</a><br /> - -Maple trees, <a href="#page_99">99</a><br /> - -Marmot, lives in colonies, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its fat, <a href="#page_8">8</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ingratitude of a hibernating, <a href="#page_9">9</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">freakish dentition of a, <a href="#page_10">10</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of popular name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Marshes, their vegetation, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Martens, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Marul, village, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Mattli, sportsman and station-master, <a href="#page_127">127-128</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on last wolf, <a href="#page_187">187</a></span><br /> - -Mauren, village, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Mehrerau, convent, <a href="#page_199">199</a><br /> - -Mellau, village, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Midwives, raise their tariff, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Milton, his botany, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -Minerals, where found, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -Moles, destruction of, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Mondspitze, Mountain, <a href="#page_6">6</a><br /> - -Montavon, valley, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a><br /> - -Montiola, brook, <a href="#page_61">61-64</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its source, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> Feldbächle.</span><br /> - -Moralists, their limitations, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -Münster, Sebastian, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="N" id="N"></a>Nauders, village, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> - -Nenzing, village, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a><br /> - -Nüziders, village, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">destroyed by fire, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a></span><br /> - -“Nymphe pudique,” fountain, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="O" id="O"></a>Oak, a memorable, <a href="#page_77">77</a><br /> - -Obdorf, village, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Ortler, mountain, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Ovid, blunders in botany, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="P" id="P"></a>Palladas, grammarian, English rendering of his epigram, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Peasants, their grievances, <a href="#page_111">111</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">catch pneumonia supervising cows at pasture, <a href="#page_209">209</a></span><br /> - -Petrifying brook, a marvel, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Pines, a region of stunted, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Pines, dwarf, their local names, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">deserve protection, <a href="#page_7">7</a></span><br /> - -Piz Buin, mountain, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Piz Linard, mountain, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -<i>Plumeau</i>, an abomination, <a href="#page_3">3</a><br /> - -Plum-tarts, how to eat, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> - -Poets, should avoid towns, <a href="#page_84">84</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">generally born naked, <a href="#page_168">168</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">talk nonsense about pomegranates, <a href="#page_206">206</a></span><br /> - -Potatoes, how to cook, <a href="#page_11">11</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">local names of, <a href="#page_72">72</a></span><br /> - -“Pré des papillons,” meadow, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Prime, Miss, her dismal experiences as governess, <a href="#page_221">221</a> <i>seq.</i><br /> - -Procter, Adelaide, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Prudishness of countryfolk, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="Q" id="Q"></a>Quadera, meadow, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Quadertatsch, an amiable beast, subject to accidents, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Quinet, Edgar, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="R" id="R"></a>R., Mr., a young brigand, studies the English language, <a href="#page_12">12</a> <i>seq.</i>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">starts a love affair. <a href="#page_42">42</a> <i>seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">progress of English studies, <a href="#page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">progress of love affair, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a></span><br /> - -Radona-tobel, torrent, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Raggal, village, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eldorado of idiots, <a href="#page_37">37</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -Ramsay, Dean, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -Rellsthal, valley, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Rhætian inhabitants of province, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Rhætikon, mountain-group <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_99">99</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a><br /> - -Rhæto-Roman names, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_62">62-63</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a><br /> - -Rhine, upper, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">regulating its river-bed, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a></span><br /> - -Riedbach, streamlet, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its source, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a></span><br /> - -Roedeer, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a><br /> - -Röns, village, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -Romans, occupy province, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cultivate vine, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> - -Romansh names. <i>See</i> Rhæto-Roman.<br /> - -Rosenegg, castle-ruin, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_179">179-182</a><br /> - -Rothe Wand, mountain, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Rothenbrunnen, mineral spring, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -“Ruisseau des écrevisses,” <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> Riedbach.</span><br /> - -“Runde Scheible,” how they came to disappear from the landscape, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -Rungalin village, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_63">63</a></span><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="S" id="S"></a>Säntis mountain, tragedy on, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Sagliain, glacier, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -St. Anne, church, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -St. Anton, village, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -St. Gallenkirch, village, <a href="#page_9">9</a><br /> - -St. Gebhard, chapel, <a href="#page_200">200</a><br /> - -St. Gerold, hamlet and convent, <a href="#page_91">91-93</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its vineyard, <a href="#page_197">197</a></span><br /> - -St. Martin, church, <a href="#page_186">186</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its Gothic ornaments, <a href="#page_214">214</a></span><br /> - -St. Nicholas, church, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> - -St. Peter, convent, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Salamander, alpine, <a href="#page_182">182</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">maculated, <a href="#page_184">184</a></span><br /> - -Sarotla alp, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Satteins, village, <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -Scesaplana, mountain, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its summit, <a href="#page_158">158</a></span><br /> - -Scesa-tobel, torrent, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Schattenburg, castle-ruin, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Schlee, Johann Georg, his <i>Relation of Rhetia</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on wild beasts, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a></span><br /> - -Schlehen. <i>See</i> Schlee.<br /> - -Schlins, village, <a href="#page_169">169</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its pleasanttavern, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a></span><br /> - -Schlosstobel, torrent, <a href="#page_63">63</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Schmalz, a desirable condiment, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Schmatzen, a noise forbidden at dinner, <a href="#page_92">92-93</a><br /> - -Schnapps (spirits), varieties of, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Schnepfenstrich, tract of forest, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Schreiber, E., <i>quoted</i>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Schubert, Fräulein, gets the sack, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Shelter-huts in mountains, degenerate into hotels, <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Silberthal, valley, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -Silvretta, glacier, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Sippins, dog, specializes in fleas and beer, <a href="#page_232">232</a><br /> - -Sister of author, leads him astray, <a href="#page_63">63</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Skittles played with skulls, <a href="#page_214">214</a><br /> - -Sliding on fir-branches, its risks, <a href="#page_5">5-6</a><br /> - -Solidarity, a catchword, <a href="#page_175">175-176</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its grotesque results, <a href="#page_231">231</a></span><br /> - -Som, schoolmaster, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Sonnenberg, castle-ruin, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a><br /> - -Sonntag, village, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Sporting pictures, their uses, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> - -Spuller lake, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a><br /> - -Squirrel, with malformed teeth, <a href="#page_10">10</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of a tame, <a href="#page_28">28</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">declining in numbers, <a href="#page_238">238</a></span><br /> - -Statuette of bronze, a remarkable, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Stelvio pass, crossing on high bicycles, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Steub, Ludwig, <a href="#page_101">101</a>; <i>quoted</i>, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Storrbach, torrent, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Strassburger (now Mannheimer) hut, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Strassenhaus, railway-station, <a href="#page_127">127</a><br /> - -Sulzfluh, mountain, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Sulz-Röthis, village, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> - -Suser, consequences of drinking, <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> - -Switzerland, projected annexation to, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="T" id="T"></a>Tabalada, stream, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Tattermandl, derivation of name, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> Quadertatsch.</span><br /> - -Tavern, our residence, its food and comforts, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its proprietors, <a href="#page_31">31-34</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">prices at, <a href="#page_112">112</a></span><br /> - -Theocritus, seldom caught napping, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Thirty Years’ War, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a><br /> - -Thüringen, village, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">derivation of name, <a href="#page_169">169</a></span><br /> - -Thüringerberg, village, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> - -Tiberius, Emperor, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Tiefis, village, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">visit to its tavern, <a href="#page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">another visit, <a href="#page_130">130</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">another, <a href="#page_190">190</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">another, <a href="#page_241">241</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">destroyed by fire, <a href="#page_130">130</a></span><br /> - -Tilisuna lake, <a href="#page_63">63</a><br /> - -Tourists, their climbing feats, <a href="#page_23">23-24</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Townbred persons, often incomplete, <a href="#page_83">83-86</a><br /> - -Trout, how to catch, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Tschallenga, mountain, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_83">83</a><br /> - -Tschudi, F. von, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> - -Tschusi, R. von, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Tuckwell, Rev. W., <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="V" id="V"></a>Valbona, mountain, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> - -Val d’Aosta, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> - -Valduna, lunatic asylum, <a href="#page_38">38</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">interviews at, <a href="#page_190">190-196</a></span><br /> - -Valentschina (Walserthal), <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -Vallis Drusiana (Walgau), derivation of name, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Valtellina, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> - -Valuta, its workings, <a href="#page_113">113</a><br /> - -Vandans, village, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> - -Verdigris, dining off, <a href="#page_47">47</a><br /> - -Vermunt, Maz, <a href="#page_63">63</a><br /> - -Village, statistics of our, <a href="#page_13">13</a><br /> - -Vineyards, no longer planted, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> - -Violets, yellow, <a href="#page_143">143</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">red and white, <a href="#page_163">163</a></span><br /> - -Vonbun, Dr. J. F., <i>quoted</i>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>.<br /> - -Vorarlberg, province, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">projected annexation to Switzerland, <a href="#page_33">33</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sends students to Wittenberg, <a href="#page_169">169</a></span><br /> - -Vorarlbergische Chronik, <a href="#page_132">132</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>quoted</i>, <a href="#page_32">32</a></span><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="W" id="W"></a>Walchner, H., <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Walgau, central valley of province. <i>See</i> Vallis Drusiana.<br /> - -Walserthal, valley, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">famous for idiots, <a href="#page_37">37</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">when colonized, <a href="#page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dialect and costume, <i>ibid.</i></span><br /> - -Wasserkälb (<i>Gordius</i>), <a href="#page_232">232</a><br /> - -Watts, Dr. Isaac, <i>quoted</i>, <a href="#page_12">12</a><br /> - -Weisses Kreuz, hotel, its manager worth making love to, <a href="#page_207">207</a><br /> - -Widderstein, mountain, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> - -Wildkirchle, rock-needle, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Wine, qualities and prohibitive price of, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">decline in local production of, <a href="#page_196">196</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wine-bibbing in olden days, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> - -Wolf, the last, <a href="#page_187">187</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">why extinct in Alps, <a href="#page_188">188</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wolf-stories, <a href="#page_214">214</a></span><br /> - -Wolfart, Lord of Blumenegg, <a href="#page_80">80</a><br /> - -Wood of the ——, a once awesome forest, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> - -Woodcock shooting, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Woodlands, administration of, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a name="Z" id="Z"></a>Zalim alp, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Zimba, mountain, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">first ascent of, <a href="#page_21">21-22</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its victims, <a href="#page_23">23</a></span><br /> - -Zimmerman, Dr., responsible for cataclysm, <a href="#page_7">7</a><br /> - -“Zoologist,” referred to, <a href="#page_10">10</a><br /> - -Zürich, derivation of name, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -Zürs, alp, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> -</p> - -<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Called “Latschen” hereabouts, because they are -“gelegt”—pressed earthwards by winter snows; or else by the old Rhætic -name of “Zuondra” which we sometimes twist into “Sonderinen.” They are -more generally known as “Legföhren.” These groves of <i>Pinus pumilio</i> -deserve careful protection; they shield the meadows below from the -devastating effects of cloudbursts in the upper regions, from -stone-cataracts and—by welding all successive snowfalls into that first -one which lies anchored among their twisted limbs—from avalanches.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> He has surprised me, of late, by a new acquirement: a -considerable familiarity with Polish history. They only began to teach -it quite recently, he says; and thereby hangs a tale. It would seem that -an ukase has gone forth from educational headquarters in Paris, to the -effect that the youth of the entire country is to be brought up in the -belief that the Poles, the old friends of France, are a prodigy among -nations; every phase of their contemptible politics and degrading -parliamentary wrangles during the last few centuries has to be regarded -as of epoch-making importance—as opposed to the futile history of their -enemies on the East. Nothing, in short, is good enough for Poland; -nothing bad enough for Russia. And all because a misguided pack of -French capitalists, after those Toulon celebrations, lent their millions -to Russia, expecting to receive the usual three hundred per cent profit -which is not yet forthcoming and, let us hope, never will be. An -interesting example by what means “patriotic” convictions are nurtured, -and for what ends.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> We walked up to the <i>Bährenloch</i> last week. The path is -neglected and quite overgrown in places; the cave seems to have lost its -popularity since the war. I was glad to see that old yew tree—rather a -rare growth hereabouts—still clinging to the rock near its entrance. We -went in with candles and saw one bat fluttering about; I felt no great -desire to take it home with me. The pets one kept! Guinea-pigs, first of -all, <i>Meerschweinle</i> which, in a burst of infantile humor, I used to -call <i>Immermehrschweinle</i>, alluding to their miraculous fecundity. Not a -bad joke, now I think of it. And the last was a black squirrel, that -ended in pitiable fashion. I took it out of its nest and brought it up -on the bottle, like a baby. It grew to be my companion all the time, -free to come and free to go, and there was nothing I could not do with -it; we were really devoted to each other. Afterwards, having to leave -the country, I gave it in charge of a certain female relative who also -loved it. The cage was placed on the top of one of those enormous stoves -of green majolica tiles. Winter came, and the maid lighted the fire, -forgetful of the cage above. Then she remembered, and rushed back into -the room. Too late! The poor beast had meanwhile been slowly, quite -slowly, roasted to death. No more pets after that.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Here is a local and contemporary appreciation of this glory -of art. “Mit höchstem Rechte verdient hier die aus dieser Landschaft -gebürtige Angelika Kaufmann eine Stelle. Dieses mit den seltensten -Vorzügen des Genies ausgestattete Frauenzimmer macht wirklich in der -Malerei Epoche, und lebt diesmal als eine der berühmtesten Künstlerinnen -des sich neigenden achtzehnten Jahrhunderts, in glücklicher Ehe in Rom, -zur Ehre ihres Vaterlandes, das auf sie stolz seyn darf.” -(Vorarlbergische Chronik. Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 81.)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Professor Joseph Bergmann, in an extremely learned booklet -(“Untersuchungen über die freyen Walliser oder Walser.” Vienna, Carl -Gerold, 1844) has proved that our Walsers, an industrious people of -Burgundian stock, emigrated hitherward from the Swiss Canton Wallis -(Valais) at the end of the thirteenth century and settled in this wild -valley and its surroundings. It is they who brought it to its present -high state of prosperity. They have kept their Swiss accent to this day, -with certain idioms of their own—not every Englishman can translate -“Wie tüschalat’s Bobbe so schö im Pfülfli!”—and their costume is more -strange than beautiful. In olden days nearly every settlement here -(Bludenz, Feldkirch, Nenzing, etc.) had its own costume. There are only -three left now; that of the Walserthal, the Montavon, and -Bregenzerwald.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> I cannot suggest what Tabalada means unless it be what I -think it is—a comical perversion of its Romansh name Aulat=<i>aqua -lauta</i>, a name appropriate up to a few years ago, for it was the most -crystalline water I ever saw, till we forced some of the discolored Ill -to flow into it, for factory purposes at Gais. And the real name of the -“Feldbächle” is Montiola-bach, which is also Latin; all that hilly -region where it rises used to be called Montiola; indeed, a great number -of the place-names I shall be mentioning have origin in Romansh, which -is such a detestable word that I mean to call it Rhæto-Roman in future. -</p><p> -Our old Rhætian inhabitants, now held to be Celts and not Etruscans as -certain scholars used to maintain, were defeated by Drusus and Tiberius -in 15 <span class="smcap">b. c.</span> in this very plain—so tradition says; certainly the Walgau -is marked as “Vallis Drusiana” in old charts and chronicles, though -another derivation is yet more plausible (see p. 152). The province was -thereafter romanized, and traces of this Latin domination can be found, -for instance, in those single personal names like Florentinus, Seganus, -Ursicinus, which persisted hereabouts into the twelfth century; the -present double family ones, of Alemannic origin, became fixed by the end -of the thirteenth. As to our Rhæto-Roman names of localities—some of -them speak for themselves; there is no difficulty about Scesaplana, -Alpila, Fontanella, Quadera and so on, though it is rather puzzling to -find a high rocky summit called “Valbona.” Lutz is <i>lutum</i>, the turbid -stream; Ludesch (Lodasco) stands on its banks. Bludesch was called -Pludassis (<i>paludes</i>) by reason of its swampy situation. The Fön, the -hot wind, is <i>Favonius</i>. Lagutz=<i>lacus</i>, a lake; which it doubtless used -to be. Raggal (Roncal in chronicles), Rungalin and other such -sites=<i>runcare</i>. Gamperdona=<i>campus rotundus</i>, which you will find most -apposite, if you go there. Other place-names are not so easy to -disentangle. Barplons=<i>Pratum planum</i>. Vanova=<i>Via nova</i>. The -“Schlosstobel” at the foot of Blumenegg castle used to be called -“Falster”=<i>Vallis torrens</i>. Trasseraus=<i>tres suors</i> (<i>sorores</i>). -Frastafeders is simply “old Frastanz.” One thing strikes me as -suggestive. That Rhætians or Romans should give names to conspicuous -peaks—Vallula, Zimba, Furka, Saladina: there are dozens of them—is -intelligible enough. You can see a mountain from below, without climbing -up. You cannot see a lake from below. Yet the names of some of our -secluded Alpine waters, like Tilisuna and Formarin, whatever their -origin, are not Alemannic and are therefore pre-Alemannic; which proves -that these remote and inhospitable spots were already then frequented -for the sake, no doubt, of their brief summer pasturage. Whence I deduce -that the population of those days must have been denser than one -generally imagines. Formarin, for the rest, is pronounced “Famurin” -which may be “Val Murin,” from the quantities of marmots (<i>mure -montana</i>, contracted into our “Burmentli”) up there. If this conjecture -sounds far-fetched, let me hasten to say that it is not mine, but that -of Max Vermunt (“Stille Winkel in Vorarlberg”).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> We had our ups and downs in later times. One of the “ups” -was when the factory was partially burnt some thirty years ago, and the -insurance compensation enabled us not only to rebuild it on a far finer -scale, but to purchase the neighboring establishment of Gais which -happened to be in the market.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The Fön, if it then existed, may be responsible for the -destruction by fire of so many of the prehistoric Swiss lake -settlements.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> “Hystorische Relation,” etc., of Rhetia by Johann Georg -Schlehen of Rottweyl. There is a copy in the British Museum. His name is -Schlee; the Schlehen on the title-page is the accusative.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Justice was dispensed in sight of the gallows, the <i>signa -meri imperi</i>, near the Hanging Stone (a conspicuous cliff on the Bludenz -road)—dispensed upon a certain fateful meadow, the path to which used -to be known as the “gallows’ way,” and the meadow itself “Gerichti” -(Court of Justice). These names seem to have faded out of the popular -memory. I like to think that the proceedings took place near that -wide-branching oak, by far the finest in the district, at whose foot I -used to recline in olden days. It stands between the Hanging Stone and -our present railway station, opposite that detestable new cement -factory, on the south side of the line. There is certainly a path -leading to it from the cliff, and perhaps some dim tradition attached to -this oak has saved it from the ax through all these years.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> I have just discovered, rummaging among some old papers, a -musical composition by my mother entitled “Blumenegg.” It is dated -October, 1861; three years before her marriage.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The former of these speaks of Milton’s “habitually loose -botany.” No great blemish; given the themes he loved, it might be argued -that much of Milton’s peculiar aroma would evaporate, had he been -meticulous in such details like Tennyson or de Tabley. Theocritus is -hard to catch napping; but Ovid, for example, tells us that <i>buxus</i> -grows on Mount Hymettus. There is no box on Hymettus, though it prospers -in certain gardens of Athens (e. g., the Crown Prince’s); Ovid was -thinking of the dwarf holly. It is the worst of writing poetry, that you -are apt to be torn between respect for truth and the exigencies of -scansion. What would the painfully correct Lucretius have done with this -<i>buxus</i>?</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Professor K. W. von Dalla Torre mentions him in his -“Zoologische Literatur von Tirol und Vorarlberg bis inclusive 1885.” He -enumerates eighteen different monographs by him, dealing with the fauna -alone of this province. (His botanical works are more important.) He -also notes that Bruhin is “at present (1886) in Columbus, Ohio, U. S. -A.” It is a far cry to Ohio! If he stayed there any length of time, he -is sure to have made a name for himself. He always signs himself “Th. -A.”; Dalla Torre calls him “Theodor,” which is probably correct; in the -list of subscribers to Heer’s “Urwelt der Schweiz” (1865, p. xviii) he -figures as “Thomas.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> We generally went to Lech in threes. Now the inn at Lech -was not a bad one; so good indeed, that its praises have been sung by no -less an authority than the writer Ludwig Steub, who was also a frequent -visitor at our house in times gone by. But our own cuisine and cellar -were still better, and accordingly we were wont to take up by cart a -vast store of provisions, only sleeping at the inn and occasionally -ordering some little dish or a quarter of wine for the sake of -appearances. To recoup himself, the innkeeper used to charge us so -preposterously for these trifles that on one occasion we had a solemn -row with him and refused to pay. He yielded. Not long afterwards there -was printed in some local paper a spirited poem in the mock-heroic -style, with the refrain: -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Die Heiligen Drei Könige, mit irrendem Stern—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Die essen und trinken, und zahlen nicht gern!<br /></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p> -I wish I had kept a copy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> I knew an old hunter of Ludesch who claimed to have killed -seventy-five pine martens near that village. I have seen only two in my -whole life hereabouts; and not a single one within the last thirty-five -years, despite never-ending rambles among these forests. But we had a -pair of beech martens under the eaves of our house, which they reached -by climbing along the branches of a mighty walnut tree that leaned over -the roof. In the daytime they were never to be found. By night they made -such a din of scuttling and scampering that visitors, sleeping in rooms -below, had to be warned of their existence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> This particular specimen is commemorated by Rudolph von -Tschusi (son of the well-known ornithologist) in “Ornithologisches -Jahrbuch,” IX, 1898, Heft 2. According to H. Walchner’s “Ornithologie -des Bodenseebeckens” (1835) the ibis is of the “greatest rarity” on this -sheet of water, only a single instance of its occurrence being then -known, which is precisely why I bought this one. Apropos of -woodpeckers—Bruhin, in his “Wirbelthiere Vorarlbergs” (1868) also says -that he saw the lesser spotted kind only once; the bird must therefore -be far from common. And this year, for the first time, I had the -pleasure of spying the three-toed one. We were walking down from Lagutz -to Marul (see p. 155) through that magnificent Alpine forest when we -noticed a pair of them. They kept close together, one following the -other and we following both; so tame were they, that we could approach -within a few yards and see the yellow on the head of the male. I -observed that they had the same habit as the middle-spotted woodpecker, -of investigating carefully not only the trunk but the branches of trees. -While watching them I thought: how wise of you to have kept out of my -way till now!</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Bludenz itself was twice destroyed by fire. <i>See</i> -“Vorarlbergische Chronik” (Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 108).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Woodlands have always been cherished here. Wood inspectors -were appointed as early as 1626, possibly earlier; they had to traverse -the forests every spring, summer and autumn, and to report the slightest -damage to the trees. Four years later, an excellent rule was framed to -prevent the ever-increasing damage to forest-growth by herds of goats: -whoso has three cows, may keep no goat whatever; the owner of two cows -may keep one goat; the possession of a single cow entitled you to three -goats and no more. This stamped out the goat mischief. Such were the -Lords of Blumenegg, from whom certain modern governments might well take -a lesson; like sensible tyrants, they not only laid down wise -regulations on this and other matters, but saw to it that they were -carried out (those gallows!). In the inhospitable recesses of the -Walserthal, at five hours’ march from their castle, lying in a caldron -of bleak gray crags—an excellent chamois-ground—is the iron-spring and -bathing establishment of Rothenbrunnen, where the Alpine rhododendrons -droop over your bedroom window; it was the Blumenegg people who erected -the first building here in 1650, with accommodation for forty patients. -Twenty-six years later they founded a school in the remote hamlet of -Sonntag. Their fishery regulations were on the same enlightened scale. -As early as 1690 no fishing of any kind was permitted during the -spawning season (21 September to 30 November); nets, moreover, were to -have meshes wide enough to allow the escape of every fish less than -seven inches in length, which happens to be the precise limit fixed, at -this present moment, by the conservators of the Exe and other English -rivers. For these and other details of the Blumenegg rule <i>see</i> the -exhaustive monograph on this subject by one of our best local -antiquarians, the late Joseph Grabherr, priest of Satteins (Bregenz, -1907).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> During these works at the Spuller lake they unearthed, -last year, the skull and horns of an elk; the relic was unfortunately -bought by a Swiss who carried it off to his own country; it ought to -have gone into the newly founded Bludenz Museum. The Spuller lake is the -locality of a strange devil-legend and also of a ghost-story which have -been preserved by Dr. F. J. Vonbun in his “Sagen Vorarlbergs” -(Innsbruck, 1858). I will transcribe a line or two of the former, -omitting his accents and pronounciation marks, in order to give a sample -of our Alemannic dialect: “Es set ama wienicht-obed amol en ma zum en -andera: ‘los nochber, i wetta mi zitgae, du traust di net, mer min -schmalzkübelzolfa hinet vo Spullers z holla.’ Der nochber set ‘woll -frile, d wett gilt’ und nümt en füfspoeriga hund, stahel, fürste und -schwamm und got Spullers zue. Wia-n er an stofel kunnt, bringt em der -butz vo Spullers de zolfa a guets stuck scho etgega, aber der nochber -set zuenem, los gueta fründ,” etc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> The Alpine rose thrives in the climate of Deeside; it -grows taller and greener than on these hills, and loses none of its -fragrance. It should not be planted in the shade.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> At the easterly end of these Elser Schröfen there is a -convenient path down between the rocks; it connects Marul, via the Els -and Furkla alps, with Bludenz. Regarding the cliffs themselves—this -decorative ridge seems to be of recent formation; I imagine it is the -result of a rupture, and that the hill formerly trended in a soft curve -towards the Furkla. When the divulsion took place none can tell; but I -think I know where the lost material is to be found, if anybody cares to -pick it up. This broken mountain was carried down the Galgen-tobel, and -now forms the vast southward-sloping triangle of raised ground which is -crossed by the driving-road from Bludenz to Nüziders. On the spot, the -existence of a deltoid tract here is naturally not apparent. If you -mount to any slight eminence on the other side of the Ill, you cannot -fail to perceive its characteristic shape and to divine its origin; it -is the work of an agency similar to that which produced the northward -sloping delta of the Scesa-tobel immediately opposite. The railway -Bludenz-Nüziders skirts at one point a steep grassy bank recalling that -described on p. 117; I take it to have been carved into this deposit by -the old Ill, in its more vigorous days.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> At the spot where, in later years, the Arlberg railway -came to stride over this torrent, a memorial tablet has been erected to -him. I was unaware of its existence and only learned the fact two weeks -ago—from Baedeker.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Douglass (John Sholto). “Die Römer in Vorarlberg.” -Thüringen. Im Selbstverlage des Verfassers. 1870. 4to. Paper cover. -Title page, two pages index of contents. One page with half title, 67 -pages of text. At the end 4 photographic plates, one of them in color.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> He speaks of our primitive lake-dwellers as being of a -different race and anterior to these—a race that can be proved none the -less to have lingered into the Roman period; which makes him wonder why -there is no mention of them in Latin writers, whereas Herodotus has left -us such an excellent description. (There is a hint of them in Cæsar’s -account of the Britons; and a representation, on Trajan’s Column, of -what might be a Dacian palafitte.) Sundry objects of this epoch have -been found at our end of Lake Constance. To other evidence showing that -the inner Walgau, the Ill valley between Feldkirch and Bludenz, was at -one time also or at least partially a lake, I can add a small -confirmatory fact, namely, the discovery by myself, on the 13 October, -1883, of one of those spindle-whorls of burnt clay—unornamented, this -one—which are characteristic of the lacustrine era. I drew it out of -the earth in the then fresh railway cutting below the convent of St. -Peter at Bludenz, and take some little credit to myself for detecting -it, and realizing its significance, at that tender age. I know not -whether other relics of lake-dwellers have been found up here; this one -specimen is sufficient evidence of their existence for me. It is worth -noting, too, that not a single old village of the inner Walgau lies in -the plain (which may also be due to fear of Ill floods). My contribution -to the antiquities of later periods consists of the statuette here -figured. It was found not far from Lauterach during those -Rhine-regulation works mentioned on p. 54, and I was obliged to give its -owner a diamond scarf-pin which had cost me £65—those were opulent -days—before he could be induced to part with it. The material is -bronze, all except the iron lance-blade and rivetings under the feet; -its height, to the tip of the lance, is 17½ centimeters. Every detail in -this little work of art is challenging, and I will not lose myself in -conjectures as to its age or origin.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Ludwig Steub says that Droussa, Drossa, signifies -aldertree or thicket of alders, that the Rhætian form of this word was -probably <i>tarusa</i> or <i>trusa</i>, and that the valley is called <i>Trusiana</i> -in chronicles, “which may be translated as valley of alders.” I have -come across it also marked as <i>Thrusiana</i>, and may point out that the -dwarf mountain alder (<i>alnus viridis</i>) is to this day called “Droosle” -in our dialect. If Steub be correct, it is an odd circumstance, indeed, -that this identical tree should once more have crept into the modern -designation of this province: Vor<i>arl</i>berg, from the German <i>Erle</i>, an -elder. “Arlberg”—“Arlenberg” in some old books—has also been derived -from “Arla,” the dwarf pine, which is said to be one of its names in -“German-speaking Rhætia.” It may be so. I have never heard these pines -called “Aria” hereabouts, though they have several other names (<i>see</i> p. -6). They are sometimes called “Adla” in the Bregenxerwald.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> This last part is the track from which the two young men, -referred to on p. 24, contrived to fall and kill themselves. I would -take any child up there, though not by night. It may be that they had no -nails to their boots and slipped on some rocks freshly glazed with ice, -dragging each other over the brink.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Nothing is known, I fancy, of the meaning of those old -place-names like Schlins, Düns, Röns, and so forth. The origin of our -Thüringen is held to be different from that of the German province, -which has been derived from Turo, a family name; to be Celtic, and -allied to Tours and Zürich (which is also marked as Türrig in old maps); -to this day our people invariably call the place “z’Türrig.” Schlins is -the birthplace of a remarkable man, Magister Bartholomæus Bernhardt, -born 1487. He was called Velcurio from the neighboring town of -Feldkirch, studied (1504) at the new University of Wittenberg which -within twenty years had received over forty students from Vorarlberg; -became a monk and (1519) rector of that University; thereafter to the -end of his life Prior of Kemberg in Saxony. According to Sebastian -Münster (1550) he was the first priest to take to himself a legitimate -wife. He died 1551. His brother John, who seems to have been also a -monk, wrote a commentary on Aristotle’s “Physics” and was likewise -married.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> This reads a little jaundiced. I must contemplate my -oleographs.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> They do not exist in this <i>Adneter Kalk</i>. We noticed some -fair specimens the other day at the Freiburger Hut (Formarin).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> This tusk has been in the Bregenz Museum since 1859, with -a suitable inscription. A molar, presumably of the same animal, was -found by a peasant in this torrent some twenty years ago; it is now at -Invery House, Banchory, N. B.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> “Mounts up to 7000 feet, and probably descends not much -below 3000,” says Schreiber, in his <i>Herpetologia Europea</i>. Bludenz lies -at half the latter elevation. Brehm draws the word Tattermandl from -“toter Mann,” which is a philologer’s derivation; he is anything but -“tot.” It might be a corruption by popular etymology, of the Latin and -Italian name. Bruhin says that <i>salamandra maculosa</i> occurs at -Thüringen. I have traversed every inch of the Thüringen territory in all -seasons and weathers for the last half century, and never seen one.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Mattli was right. According to Bruhin’s “Wirbelthiere -Vorarlbergs” (1868) the last wolf was shot at the Hanging Stone about -1830, though he does not mention this fact in his interesting paper on -the fauna and flora of this cliff. The last lynx, he says, was killed -about 1820; a certain Rüf, a well-known chamois hunter of the -Bregenzerwald, told me that when he was a youngster he frequently came -across old Lynx-traps in the woods. There are woodcuts both of lynx and -wolf in Schlee’s “Rhetia”; he speaks of them as being very troublesome -in the Bludenz district (p. 61). The wild boar, long since extinct, he -mentions among the game animals of Bregenz and Dornbirn. I myself found -the tusk of one during some drainage works in the fields between Bludenz -and Rungalin. Bruhin says that a bear was killed near Nenzing in 1828 -and that another one frequented an alp there for a whole summer season -in 1867. Bears were passably common when Tschudi wrote his “Thierleben -der Alpenwelt”; Berlepsch (about 1860) says that twelve to twenty of -them were still annually killed in the Alps; soon enough, I shall be one -of the few persons left who have tasted the flesh of a genuine Alpine -bear. This was at Nauders in the Tyrol in May, 1897; the beast had -probably come over from the Grisons.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Since then, the same reason has been given me by two other -natives, both of whom are in a position to know. I call it -“interesting,” because observations of a recent change of climate—and -always in the direction of moisture—have been recorded in other parts -of Europe. In the Shetland Islands, for instance, they will point out to -you stretches of moor and heather once covered with grain which, owing -to increased dampness, could no longer be got to mature. The same -phenomenon has struck me also, but, on thinking it over, I attributed it -to my own imagination; hot summers, I said to myself, and clear snowy -winters, are far more likely to impress a child than rainy weather; -hence we conclude rashly that in the days of our youth the climate was -more continental. Yet how explain a state of affairs like this: vines -were cultivated here by the Romans (even during the Stone Age, among the -pile-dwellers on Lake Constance) and, assiduously, as early as the -eleventh century; in 1615, again, there were no less than <i>one hundred -vineyards at Bludesch alone</i>. The site of all of them is now nothing but -grassy slopes. Can hay be more remunerative than wine? If not, there is -perhaps something to be said for the change-of-climate theory. They seem -to have been gay people, by the way, in those bibulous days. Many are -the complaints of illicit dancing and outrageous swearing, of -“Versoffenheit und Tabakfressen”—drunkenness and tobacco-chewing.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> I have just gone through Quinet’s pages again. They are a -thing apart, in French travel-literature. Here is no affectation, no -mockery, no rhetoric, no complaints about this or that, no advice to the -Greeks as to how they should govern themselves; nothing but the -impressions of a blithe and sympathetic traveler. So he wanders through -this country which then possessed “not a single two-wheeled carriage” -nor domestic beasts of any kind; he gives us poignant sketches of its -utter desolation—the fire-blackened villages and their few, -half-starved inhabitants, the putrefying corpses, skeletons by the -wayside, leagues of burnt forest and olive-groves; together with a few -brighter descriptions of life in Arcadia, of those delightful Albanian -children, and of chance meetings with the great Kolokotroni and others. -What strikes me as distinctively non-French in Quinet is his -whole-hearted love of nature, and a certain organic nobility of outlook. -One would gladly quote from those stimulating reflections on the art of -ancient Greece, but as I am on the subject of homesickness, I will -merely transcribe what he says of Sparta (then a mere hovel) which has -the true nostalgic ring. “Je laisse à d’autres à expliquer comment une -ville qui ne vous est rien, bien moins, quelques tertres de cailloux que -vous ne reverrez jamais, peuvent vous manquer plus que votre terre -natale.” Quinet, it will be seen, wrote as citizen of the world, not of -France; and that is why his book is a thing apart. It ends with a -touching farewell to the whole country. “Ni demain, ni après, ne -verrai-je plus mes hôtes de Dhervény ou de Mistra, ni les forêts -brulées, ni les os sur la grève, ni tout ce que les hommes peuvent -souffrir pour une pensée, sans cesser de la mettre à haut prix ...” -</p><p> -There once passed through my hands a copy of these travels marginally -annotated by some Greek reader in faded, yellow ink. One of his -observations ran to this effect: “Ce livre est tout ce qu’il doit être, -admirable de description et de vérité. Moi, Grec, je puis témoigner que -ce livre est plein de vérités et de charmes.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Avoid the lake salmon.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> They are buried at Bludesch—the last one in 1669—in that -crypt below the church which bears the awesome superscription: <i>Fui non -sum. Estis non critis.</i> They also built what is now the Krone inn at -that village, one of whose ceilings has taken refuge in the Bregenz -Museum, and whose present proprietor was a schoolfellow of mine at -Som’s.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Frastanz is famous for its beer and for its battle, on -Saturday, 20 April, 1499, between the Swiss and the Imperial troops, -which seems to have been the bloodiest ever fought in this province. -There is a pretty legend connected with it (<i>see</i> Vonbun’s “Sagen -Vorarlbergs,” Innsbruck, 1858).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> These “water-calves” are thin, wire-like worms of the -family of the Gordiidae; they pass through singular stages of -development. We used to be told blood-curdling tales of their effects on -the human stomach if accidentally swallowed with the water.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>G. asclepiadea</i>, which the Germans briefly call -“Schwalbenwurzblättriger Enzian.” Old Conrad Gesner knew it as -“poison-root,” not because it was poisonous in itself, but because -cattle were said to eat it in order to cure themselves of the stings of -poisonous animals. He learnt this piece of lore, as well as the plant’s -popular name, from the botanist Aretius (Benedikt Marti), and therefore -wished to call the flower “Aretia” in honor of him. Two hundred years -later Haller, the great countryman of Aretius, did give the name Aretia -to a certain genus of plants; and it was retained by Linné.</p></div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOGETHER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/69546-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/69546-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 34f808f..0000000 --- a/old/69546-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69546-h/images/img-008.jpg b/old/69546-h/images/img-008.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7fa32a6..0000000 --- a/old/69546-h/images/img-008.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69546-h/images/img-152.jpg b/old/69546-h/images/img-152.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9532332..0000000 --- a/old/69546-h/images/img-152.jpg +++ /dev/null |
