UP THE MIESING. 77 



your back more heavily than would be imagined. But 

 when once the road was gained that led to the valley, 

 we tripped along with footsteps as light even as our 

 hearts were, and beguiled the downward path with 

 recounting the thousand episodes of our epic of that 

 day. It began to be dark as we reached the meadows 

 in the vale ; but that mattered little, for we had in- 

 tended not to return to Fischbachau the same even- 

 ing, but to stop at the village of Baierisch Zell, at 

 the foot of the mountains, and ask a night's shelter 

 and hospitality of the Solachers a family well known 

 to all who in those parts had ever watched for the 

 stag in the forest, or climbed up the mountain-sides 

 after the chamois. 



A light was shining from out the cottage window ; 

 we crossed the trout-stream that flowed before the 

 garden, and, passing the little wicket, were at once at 

 the door of the old hunter's dwelling. We laid the 

 chamois upon the stones, and lifting the latch went in, 

 and were met with hearty and friendly welcomings. 



