THE TYROL. SCHARNITZ. 399 



to themselves or their comrades, the following story will 

 go far to prove. Its hero lived, up to the summer of 1846, 

 in a cottage on the borders of the pleasant Starem- 

 berg Lake, close to the country-seat of one of my friends, 

 who knew the man well,* and who had listened more 

 than once to the terrible recital, and had seen the marks 

 of crucifixion which his feet and hands ever after bore. 



Zacharias Wagner, or " Zacherl" as he was familiarly 

 called, was one of those handy fellows who was expert 

 at almost anything he attempted, — at carpentering, gar- 

 dening, fishing, bird-catching ; but what he loved best 

 was to be out in the woods or on the mountains watch- 

 ing the game ; and, if an opportunity offered, without 

 danger of being caught, to test perhaps the steadiness of 

 his aim and the range of his trusty rifle. At last he got 

 a place as keeper in Reichertsbayern, and it was one 

 evening in June, when returning from his usual rounds 

 in the forest, that his adventure occurred. He had seen 

 nothing, neither stag nor chamois that whole afternoon, 

 but it was too early to turn homewards; and so, in- 

 tending to be out early on the morrow, and with hopes 

 of better luck than he had had hitherto, he determined 

 to pass the night in one of the log-huts which are always 

 to be found on the high-up pasture-grounds. 



Here, snugly ensconced in the sweet hay, with his dog 

 beside him, he soon fell asleep. 



An hour, or may-be two, had hardly passed, when 

 Waldmann began a low bark, which awoke his master ; 

 but he, thinking the dog was dreaming, took no further 

 notice of it, and turned to sleep again ; when at the same 

 moment he hears a rush towards and into the hut where 

 he was lying, and he had scarcely time to seize his rifle 



* It is to this friend I owe the admirable likeness of Zacherl, done 

 to the life, at the end of this chapter. 



