LEGEND OF KNOCK- A-THAMPLE. 1 63 



were abandoned, and the cattle driven from the hills. It was 

 a dark evening ; and the rain which had been collecting on the 

 mountains began to fall heavily, when a loud knock disturbed 

 the inhabitants of the cabin. The door was promptly unbarred, 

 and a young and well-dressed stranger entered, received the 

 customary welcome, with an invitation to join the herdsman's 

 family, who were then preparing their evening meal. The 

 extreme youth and beauty of the traveller did not escape the 

 peasant's observation, although he kept his cap upon his head 

 and declined to put aside his mantle. 



An hour before the young stranger had arrived, another, 

 and a very different visiter, had demanded lodging for the 

 night. He belonged also to another country, and for some years 

 had trafficked with the mountain peasantry, and was known 

 among them by the appellation of the Red Pedler. He was 

 a strong, under- sized, and ill-visaged man ; mean in his dress, 

 and repulsive in his appearance. The Pedler directed a keen 

 and inquisitive look at the belated traveller, who, to escape 

 the sinister scrutiny of his small but piercing eyes, turned to 

 where the herdsman's wife was occupied in preparing the 

 simple supper. The peasant gazed with wonder at her guest; 

 for never had so fair a face been seen within the herdsman's 

 dwelling. While her eyes were still bent upon the stranger, 

 a fortuitous opening of the mantle displayed a sparkling cross 

 of exquisite beauty, which hung upon the youth's bosom ; and 

 more than once, as it glittered in the uncertain light of the 

 wood fire, she remarked the rich and sparkling gem. 



When morning came, the Pilgrim took leave of the hos- 

 pitable peasants, and as he inquired the road to the holy 

 well, slipped a rose-noble into the hand of the herdsman's 



right of pasturage on particular portions of the adjacent hills ; and in some 

 cases the distance from the tenant's habitation to this mountain pasturage 

 will exceed a dozen miles. Hence it is impossible to pay the requisite 

 attention to the cattle, without residing on the spot ; and a part of the 

 family, generally the young girls, are detached to bivouac in the hills, 

 and attend to the herding and milking of the cows. 



These huts are always erected in lone and beautiful valleys, generally 

 on the bank of a rivulet, and placed beneath the shelter of a cliff. 

 When tue season closes, they are deserted until the following year ; and 

 a few hours' work suffices to render them habitable when the returning 

 summer obliges the fair villagers to resume their wild and pastoral 

 employment. 



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