134 Idylls of the Field. 



until now it ran 300 feet below the little bridge that 

 spanned the narrow chasm. The steep sides were 

 covered thick with bright fronds of oak-fern, and 

 nodding plumes of tall spireas. Patches of sweet 

 pyrolas nestled in its sheltered hollows ; farther down, 

 spikes of yellow foxglove swayed gently in the wind ; 

 clumps of dark purple gentian had found a footing 

 even in this rocky steep. 



The track now was less distinct and occasionally 

 difficult j we had to help one of the party by fencing 

 him off from the abyss with an alpenstock held between 

 two. 



At last we came down to the stream, and crossing 

 it again by a fallen pine-trunk, found ourselves near 

 the end of our labours. In a few minutes we were 

 well within the Hollenthal. 



It is not inaptly styled the Valley of Hell. It is 

 walled in by the steep sides of giant mountains, culmi- 

 nating at the farther end in the huge mass of the 

 Zugspitze — the highest peak in all Bavaria, whose 

 twin summits bar the way like the grim guards of an 

 enchanted land. 



On the right the cliff is silvered by the now dwindling 

 waters of the Mariensprung, a fall which ceases, so 

 tradition says, on the Virgin's birthday. 



Beyond the fall the mountain-side is bare, pre- 

 cipitous, and inaccessible — except at the head of the 

 valley, where a climb of 2,000 feet leads up to the 

 Riffel, and thence down to the Eibsee. 



