AN UNLUCKY DAY. 147 



as he did down he went. He knocked open the door, 

 and called to the men to come out and lay down 

 their rifles ; but no one stirred, all was still. Probst 

 then rushed into the hut, and, seizing the first fellow 

 he saw, caught him by the throat ; at the same mo- 

 ment the other poachers came upon him from behind 

 and pulled him down backwards ; they then beat him 

 unmercifully, took away his rifle, watch, and hat, and, 

 binding his hands and feet together, left him there on 

 the ground. The Sennerinnen were all gone down 

 into the valley, so he might have lain there long enough 

 before any one came near the hut, and have died of 

 hunger and cold. Well, after lying there all that 

 night and the next day, and after trying all he could 

 to get loose, at last on the second day towards even- 

 ing he was able to free his hands, and with his teeth 

 to undo the cords that bound them, and, w'eak, stiff 

 and exhausted, he set off homewards. It was late at 

 night when he reached his cottage ; but, ill as he was 

 for a long time afterwards, he thought himself very 

 lucky to have escaped with his life." 



It is hardly possible to conceive a more terrible 

 situation : the prospect of death, the solitude of the 

 mountain, the pains of hunger and cold during the 

 long dreary night, as he lay bound hand and foot, the 

 thoughts of home, and many other thoughts, it must 

 indeed have been a state of mental agony. It seems 

 to me that the possibility of being saved, poor as the 

 chance was, for who was likely to pass over the 

 mountain? must have added to his torment. The 



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