350 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



I know;" and so off Hans set to borrow the valuable 

 utensil, that I might cook myself a comfortable break- 

 fast. He returned with a cracked earthen pipkin, bound 

 together by a thick iron wire. The coffee was now soon 

 boiling, and then warming some cream in the iron frying- 

 pan, with bread and large slices of fresh butter, I had a 

 luxurious repast. Sitting by the hearth, the floor of the 

 hut was my table ; but that circumstance in no wise dimi- 

 nished the zest with which I ate my meal. 



Later I went out again, up to the ridge of the moun- 

 tain, and looked down on the other side for chamois. 

 But not one, not even a trace of one in the snow was to 

 be seen. 



Now and then that evening, and during the night, a 

 stag might be heard at intervals, but not continuously, 

 as is the animal's wont at this particular season. This 

 year, indeed, the rutting had a peculiar character, dif- 

 ferent from any preceding years ; for even though the 

 nights and mornings were cold and frosty, the occasional 

 bellows of two or three harts might be heard only just 

 before daybreak, and then perhaps for the rest of the day 

 hardly once to be repeated. At other times the stags, 

 when they had hinds with them, were never quiet for 

 a moment : their voices re-echoed from the hills, while 

 now scarcely one was uplifted in the solitude. From 

 afar, indeed, if you listened with most attentive ear, 

 might be caught occasionally a low rumbling as of dis- 

 tant thunder; but even this soon died away, like the 

 faint mutterings of a retreating storm. 



The third morning we went out again in another direc- 

 tion. It was early, and very dark, and Hans went be- 

 fore with a bundle of thin strips of resinous wood in his 

 hand, which nickered and flamed brightly, and threw a 

 wild glare around our path. And now we reached the 



