X Chamois-Hunting 499 



eaten up by a big dog in the dark, I sallied out, 

 preferring to make my morning ablutions in the 

 clear and particularly cold brunnen that plashed and 

 sparkled on the little green before the door, to 

 dipping the tip of my nose and the ends of my 

 fingers into the pie-dish which had been consider- 

 ately placed for my private use. 



How intensely beautiful that dawn was, with the 

 pine woods steeped in the deepest purple, here and 

 there a faint, gauzy mist, looking self-luminous, 

 marking the course of some mountain brook through 

 the forest ! The gray cliffs stood dark and silent 

 on the opposite side of the stream, and one far-off 

 snow-peak, just catching the faint reflected light of 

 dawn, gleamed ghost-like and faint, like some spirit 

 lingering on the forbidden confines of day. How 

 intense was that silence, broken only by the harsh 

 rattle of the torrent and the occasional faint tinkle 

 of a cow-bell in the distance ; or now and then by a 

 spirit-like whispering sigh among the pines, that 

 scarcely moved their long arms before the cold 

 breath of the dying night ! 



I had finished my toilet, and was just beginning 

 to hug myself in the idea that I had escaped, and 

 had a very good excuse to slip into bed again, when 

 I heard the clang of a pair of iron-soled shoes 

 advancing down the torrent-bed that did duty for a 

 road, and to my unmitigated disgust saw Joseph 

 looming through the darkness, like an own brother 

 to the Erl King, a ' shotting-iron ' under each arm, 



