no 1(A!MBLES OF A VOZMINIS 



an opportunity may chance to present itself, are often 

 five days on the way from England. 



But to the man who is not too closely wedded to the 

 ways of civilised life the settlement and its surroundings 

 offer attractions of no mean order. Primitive as are the 

 customs of this little hostel, though rough its appoint- 

 ments and simple its cuisine, the traveller will find that 

 he is waited on by the jovial landlord, one or other of 

 his laughing daughters, and the handsome gipsy girl who 

 helps them with an attention that would reflect credit on 

 the first hotel in Europe. 



And in the forest that stretches round the lake and 

 far across the Austrian border he may stalk the roebuck 

 by its favourite pool, or the tall red deer that comes 

 down in the dusk from its fastness in the mountains. 

 Here, too, the chamois is on his native heath, and of all 

 the trophies of the hunter none is dearer to his soul 

 than the black and wrinkled horns of that fleetfooted 

 mountain antelope. 



It is a pleasant path that crosses the broad green plain 

 a path that in the summer time is bright with flowers, 

 cheered with the stir of birds and the hum of myriad 

 insects. No butterflies now loiter in the scented grass. 

 No locusts rise on crimson wings as we cross the sunny 

 meadows. No more in quiet corners sounds the piping 

 of the quaiL The chill rains of October are bringing 

 down the painted leaves. There is snow along the ledges 

 of the mountains. Their crests have long been whitened 

 with a touch of winter. 



We linger on the bridge of pine-logs over the green 



