THE TYROL. SCHARNITZ. 385 



party at another table; every word on the subject of 

 game was uttered in a low whisper, and we learned that 

 yonder in the corner sat a poacher, who would be on 

 the watch to catch up any word that might give a hint 

 of our intended movements. It was curious to see how 

 Bradler, who had himself been a noted poacher, watched 

 the others from beneath his eyebrows, casting glances 

 which, could mere hate kill, would have destroyed his 

 enemy over and over again. This keeper was, indeed, 

 the terror of all the poachers in Scharnitz, and there 

 were plenty of them ; for they knew his daring, and 

 were sure, moreover, that were they and he to meet they 

 need expect no mercy. He once heard a shot in the 

 mountains, and suspecting a certain cottager to be the 

 delinquent, waited near the man's hut at nightfall, to see 

 if he would return. He came as expected; but having 

 perceived in the dusk the dark figure against the white 

 walls of his cottage, flung down his rucksack and took 

 to flight. Bradler pursued him, but fell unawares down 

 a bank into the brook. He soon, however, gained on 

 the poacher, who turned and called to the keeper to stop, 

 or he would fire. For this threat Bradler cared little. 

 It enraged him the more; so rushing on the man he 

 knocked him down into the stream with one blow from 

 his rifle, rendering him for a long time insensible ; and 

 had the poacher not been dragged out of the water he 

 would inevitably have been drowned. A chamois which 

 he had shot was afterwards found in his rucksack. 



" And if you call to a poacher to lay down his rifle/ 5 

 I asked, " and he does not, what then ?" 



" Why that at once tells me what his intentions are, 

 and I don't wait long. Should I be near him, and he re- 

 sists when I take his rifle, and tries to wrestle with me, 

 then if I am not able to manage him I feel for my knife, 



2 c 



