TO THE MOUNTAINS 



and there were tears in his bright old eyes as he 

 watched us go. 



Our luggage had been taken forward carried on 

 the backs of some twelve or fourteen stalwart 

 Tyrolese our beaters for the ensuing week's shoot- 

 ing. 



And now, accompanied by the son of old Hoch- 

 leitner and another over-forester, both of them in 

 the Imperial service, we set out for a four hours' 

 walk to the little hut among the mountains that was 

 to be our temporary home. I say " we," but I, 

 personally, rode a sober, staid, chestnut pony, 

 Bosnian as to breed, sure-footed as a mule, and 

 rejoicing in the name of " Hansel." It was my. 

 first acquaintance with mountain sport, and our 

 host, " the Sun," with kindly forethought, had 

 engaged this trusty quadruped, "as he didn't want 

 to quite kill me the first day." 



Our path led upwards for more than an hour 

 zig-zagging through dim sombre pine-woods, under 

 whose shade the moss grew green and luxuriant 

 in a thick soft carpet ; whilst, in the branches over- 

 head, flocks of siskins, with their sweet low call- 

 notes, flitted to and fro. 



Then we descended towards where a brawling 

 rivulet clattered and foamed along its rocky bed, 

 and we afterwards followed the course of this 

 mountain stream. Here and there we came to the 



157 i 



