THE ALM HUTTE. 133 



home ; and he related to me how his father during the 

 war had received a shot through the lungs, " close to 

 the hill/' said he, " which you passed in going there." 



"But how did it happen?" I asked. 



" Why, you see, he and seventy-five more went out 

 against five hundred Tyrolians, who had come with 

 carts to plunder the village. The men of Baierisch 

 Zell of course took care to get behind the trees and 

 rocks ; and being good shots each one brought down 

 his man. My father had already killed three, when 

 he himself was hit perhaps he had shot even more, 

 but of those three he was certain." 



" It was a pity he was wounded so soon, for, being 

 so cool and a good shot, he would have knocked over 

 a few more." 



" I remember," he continued, " my father used in 

 particular to tell us of one man, an immense fellow, 

 who kept on loading and firing away like the devil. 

 He was a good shot, and almost all his balls told. 

 He was standing behind a pile of wood, quite pro- 

 tected. Well, my father marked him, and thought to 

 himself, ' I J ll soon stop you, my boy ! ' So he kept 

 his eye on him and waited ; and just as he leaned a 

 little forward to fire again, my father was too quick 

 for him ; in the same second his rifle cracked, and the 

 Tyrolian doubled up together, bent forward, and fell. 

 They were obliged to retreat, and had to use the carts 

 which they had brought to fetch plunder to carry off 

 their own dead." 



" And your father recovered ?" 



