speaking the truth. "Do not let us take a by-way," continued she, "we
must go more to the left, that way is shorter!"
"Yes, so as to fall down a precipice!" said Rudy; "Do you know no
better way, and yet wish to be a guide?"
"I know the road well," said she, "my thoughts are with me; yours are
beneath in the valley; here on high, one must think on the Ice-Maiden,
for they say she is not well disposed to mankind!"
"I do not fear her," said Rudy, "she was forced to let me go when I
was a child, so I suppose I can slip away from her now that I am
older!"
The darkness increased, the rain fell, the snow came; it shone and
dazzled. "Give me your hand, I will help you to ascend!" said the
girl, and touched him with icy-cold fingers.
"You help me," said Rudy, "I do not yet need a woman's help in
climbing!" He strode quickly on, away from her; the snow-shower
formed a curtain around him, the wind whistled by him and he heard the
young girl laugh and sing; it sounded so oddly! Yes, that was
certainly a spirit in the service of the Ice-Maiden. Rudy had heard of
them, when he had passed a night on high; when he had crossed the
mountain, as a little boy.
The snow fell more scantily and the shadows lay under him; he looked
back, there was no one to be seen, but he heard laughing and _jodling_
and it did not appear to come from a human being. When Rudy reached
the uppermost portion of the mountain, where the rocky path leads to
the valley of the Rhone, he saw in the direction of Chamouni, two
bright stars, twinkling and shining in the clear streaks of blue; he
thought of Babette, of himself, of his happiness and became warmed by
his thoughts.
VI.
THE VISIT TO THE MILL.
"You bring princely things into the house!" said the old
foster-mother, her singular eagle-eyes glistened and she made strange
and hasty motions with her lean neck.
"Fortune is with you, Rudy, I must kiss you, my sweet boy!"
Rudy allowed himself to be kissed, but one could read in his
countenance, that he but submitted to circumstances and to little
household miseries. "How handsome you are, Rudy!" said the old woman.
"Do not put notions into my head!" answered Rudy, and laughed, but
still it pleased him.
"I say it once more," said the old woman, "fortune is with you!"
"Yes, I agree with you there!" said he; thought of Babette and longed
to be in the deep valley. "They must have returned, two days have
passed since they expected to do so. I must go to Bex!"
Rudy went to Bex, and the inhabitants of the mill had returned; he was
well received and they brought him greetings from the family at
Interlaken. Babette did not talk much, she had grown silent; but her
eyes spoke and that was quite enough for Rudy. The miller who
generally liked to carry on the conversation--for he was accustomed to
have every one laugh at his witty sayings and puns--was he not the
rich miller?--seemed now to prefer to listen. Rudy recounted to him
his hunting expeditions; described the difficulties, the dangers and
the privations of the chamois hunter when on the lofty mountain peak;
how often he must climb over the insecure snow-ledges, that the wind
had blown on the rocky brink, and how he must pass over slight bridges
that the snow-drifts had thrown across the abyss. Rudy looked
fearless, his eyes sparkled whilst he spoke of the shrewdness of the
chamois, of their daring leaps, of the violence of the Foehn and of the
rolling avalanches. He observed that with every description he won
more and more favour; but what pleased the miller more than all, was
the account of the lamb's vulture and the bold golden eagle.
In Canton Valais, not far from here, there was an eagle's nest, very
slyly built under the projecting edge of the rock; a young one was in
it, but no one could steal it! An Englishman had offered Rudy a few
days before, a whole handful of gold, if he would bring him the young
one alive, "but everything has a limit," said he, "the young eagle
cannot be taken away, and it would be madness to attempt it!"
The wine and conversation flowed freely; but the evening appeared all
too short for Rudy; yet it was past midnight, when he went home from
his first visit to the mill.
The light shone a little while longer through the window and between
the green trees; the parlour-cat came out of an opening in the roof
and the kitchen-cat came along the gutter.
"Do you know the latest news at the mill?" said the parlour-cat,
"there has been a silent betrothal in the house! Father does not yet
know it, but Rudy and Babette have reached each other their paws under
the table, and he trod three times on my fore-paws, but still I did
not mew, for that would have awakened attention!"
"I should have done it, nevertheless!" said the kitchen-cat.
"What is suited to the kitchen is not suited to the parlour," said the
parlour-cat. "I should like to know what the miller will say, when he
hears of the betrothal!"
Yes, what the miller would say! That was what Rudy would have liked to
know, for Rudy was not at all patient. When the omnibus rumbled over
the bridge of the Rhone, between Valais and Pays de Vaud not many days
after, Rudy sat in it and was of good cheer; filled with pleasing
thoughts of the "Yes," of the same evening.
When evening came and the omnibus returned, yes, there sat Rudy
within, but the parlour-cat, was running about in the mill with great
news.
"Listen, you, in the kitchen! The miller knows everything now. This
has had an exquisite ending! Rudy came here towards evening; he and
Babette had much to whisper and to chatter about, as they stood in the
walk, under the miller's chamber. I lay close to their feet but they
had neither eyes nor thoughts for me. 'I am going directly to your
father,' said Rudy, 'this is an honourable affair!' 'Shall I follow
you?' asked Babette, 'it may give you more courage!' 'I have courage
enough,' said Rudy, 'but if you are there, he will be forced to look
at it in a more favourable light!' They went in. Rudy trod heavily on
my tail! Rudy is indescribably awkward; I mewed, but neither he nor
Babette had ears to hear it. They opened the door, they entered and I
preceded them; I leaped upon the back of a chair, for I did not know
but that Rudy would overturn everything! But the miller reversed all,
that was a great step! Out of the door, up the mountains, to the
chamois! Rudy can aim at them now, but not at our little Babette!"
"But what was said?" asked the kitchen-cat.
"Said? Everything. 'I care for her and she cares for me! When there is
milk enough in the jug for one, there is milk enough in the jug for
two!' 'But she is placed too high for you,' said the miller, 'she sits
on gold dust, so now you know it; you can not reach her!' 'Nothing is
too high; he who wills can reach anything!' said Rudy. He is too
headstrong on this subject! 'But you cannot reach the eaglet, you said
so yourself lately! Babette is still higher!' 'I will have them both!'
said Rudy. 'Yes, I will bestow her upon you, if you make me a present
of the eaglet alive!' said the miller and laughed until the tears
stood in his eyes.
"'Thanks for your visit, Rudy! Come again to-morrow, you will find no
one at home. Farewell, Rudy!' Babette said farewell also, as
sorrowfully as a kitten, that cannot see its mother. 'A word is a
word, a man is a man,' said Rudy, 'do not weep Babette, I shall bring
the eaglet!' 'I hope that you will break your neck!' said the miller.
That's what I call an overturning! Now Rudy has gone, and Babette sits
and weeps; but the miller sings in German, he learned to do so whilst
on his journey! I do not intend to trouble myself any longer about it,
it does no good!"
"There is still a prospect!" said the kitchen-cat.
VII.
THE EAGLE'S NEST.
Merry and loud sounded the _jodel_ from the mountain-path, it
indicated good humour and joyous courage; it was Rudy; he was going to
his friend Vesinand.
"You must help me! We will take Ragli with us; I am going after the
eaglet on the brink of the rock!"
"Do you not wish to go after the black spot in the moon? That is quite
as easy," said Vesinand; "you are in a good humour!"
"Yes, because I am thinking of my wedding; but seriously, you shall
know how my affairs stand!"
Vesinand and Ragli soon knew what Rudy wished.
"You are a bold fellow," said they, "do not do this! You will break
your neck!"
"One does not fall, when one does not think of it!" said Rudy.
About mid-day, they set out with poles, ladders and ropes; their path
lay through bushes and brambles, over the rolling stones, up, up in
the dark night.
The water rushed beneath them; the water flowed above them and the
humid clouds chased each other in the air. The hunters approached the
steep brink of the rock; it became darker and darker, the rocky walls
almost met; high above them in the narrow fissure the air penetrated
and gave light. Under their feet there was a deep abyss with its
roaring waters.
They all three sat still, awaiting the grey of the morning; then the
eagle would fly out; they must shoot him before they could think of
obtaining the young one. Rudy seemed to be a part of the stone on
which he sat; his rifle placed before him, ready to take aim, his eyes
immoveably fastened on yon high cleft which concealed the eagle's
nest. The three huntsmen waited long.
A crashing, whizzing noise sounded high above them; a large hovering
object darkened the air. Two rifle barrels were aimed as the black
eagle flew from its nest; a shot was heard, the out-spread wings moved
an instant, then the bird slowly sank as if it wished to fill the
entire cliff with its outstretched wings and bury the huntsmen in its
fall. The eagle sank in the deep; the branches of the trees and bushes
cracked, broken by the fall of the bird.
They now displayed their activity; three of the longest ladders were
tied together; they stood them on the farthest point where the foot
could place itself with security, close to the brink of the
precipice--but they were not long enough; there was still a great
space from the outermost projecting cliff, which protected the nest;
the rocky wall was perfectly smooth. After some consultation, they
decided to lower into the opening two ladders tied together and to
fasten them to the three already beneath them. With great difficulty
they dragged them up and attached them with cords; the ladders shot
over the projecting cliffs and hung over the chasm; Rudy sat already
on the lowest round.
It was an ice-cold morning, and the mist mounted from the black
ravine. Rudy sat there like a fly on a rocking blade of grass, which a
nest-building bird has dropped in its hasty flight, on the edge of a
factory chimney; but the fly had the advantage of escaping by its
wings, poor Rudy had none, he was almost sure to break his neck. The
wind whistled around him and the roaring water from the thawed
glaciers, the palace of the Ice-Maiden, poured itself into the abyss.
He gave the ladders a swinging motion--as the spider swings herself by
her long thread--he seized them with a strong and steady hand, but
they shook as if they had worn-out hasps.
The five long ladders looked like a tremulous reed, as they reached
the nest and hung perpendicularly over the rocky wall. Now came the
most dangerous part; Rudy had to climb as a cat climbs; but Rudy could
do this, for the cat had taught it to him. He did not feel that
Vertigo trod in the air behind him and stretched her polypus-like arms
towards him. Now he stood on the highest round of the ladder and
perceived that he was not sufficiently high to enable him to see into
the nest; he could reach it with his hands. He tried how firm the
twigs were, which plaited in one another formed the bottom of the
nest; when he had assured himself of a thick and immoveable one, he
swung himself off of the ladder. He had his breast and head over the
nest, out of which streamed towards him a stifling stench of carrion;
torn lambs, chamois and birds lay decomposing around him. Vertigo, who
had no power over him, blew poisonous vapours into his face to stupify
him; below in the black, yawning abyss, sat the Ice-Maiden herself, on
the hastening water, with her long greenish-white hair and stared at
him with death-like eyes, which were pointed at him like two rifle
barrels.
"Now, I shall catch you!"
Seated in one corner of the eagle's nest was the eaglet, who could not
fly yet, although so strong and powerful. Rudy fastened his eyes on
it, held himself with his whole strength firmly by one hand, and with
the other threw the noose around it. It was captured alive, its legs
were in the knot; Rudy cast the rope over his shoulder, so that the
animal dangled some distance below him, and sustained himself by
another rope which hung down, until his feet touched the upper round
of the ladder.
"Hold fast, do not think that you will fall and then you are sure not
to do so!" That was the old lesson, and he followed it; held fast,
climbed, was sure not to fall and he did not.
There resounded a strong _jodling_, and a joyous one too. Rudy stood
on the firm, rocky ground with the young eaglet.
VIII.
THE NEWS WHICH THE PARLOUR-CAT RELATED.
"Here is what you demanded!" said Rudy, on entering the house of the
miller at Bex, as he placed a large basket on the floor and took off
the covering. Two yellow eyes, with black circles around them, fiery
and wild, looked out as if they wished to set on fire, or to kill
those around them. The short beak yawned ready to bite and the neck
was red and downy.
"The eaglet!" cried the miller. Babette screamed, jumped to one side
and could neither turn her eyes from Rudy, nor from the eaglet.
"You do not allow yourself to be frightened!" said the miller.
"And you keep your word, at all times," said Rudy, "each has his
characteristic trait!"
"But why did you not break your neck?" asked the miller.
"Because I held on firmly," answered Rudy, "and I hold firmly on
Babette!"
"First see that you have her!" said the miller and laughed; that was a
good sign; Babette knew this.
"Let us take the eaglet from the basket, it is terrible to see how he
glares! How did you get him?"
Rudy was obliged to recount his adventure, whilst the miller stared at
him with eyes, which grew larger and larger.
"With your courage and with your luck you could take care of three
wives!" said the miller.
"Thanks! Thanks!" cried Rudy.
"Yes, but you have not yet Babette!" said the miller as he struck the
young chamois hunter, jestingly on the shoulder.
"Do you know the latest news in the mill?" said the parlour-cat to the
kitchen-cat. "Rudy has brought us the young eagle and taken Babette in
exchange. They have kissed each other and the father looked on. That
is just as good as a betrothal; the old man did not overturn anything,
he drew in his claws, took his nap and left the two seated, caressing
each other. They have so much to relate, they will not get through
till Christmas!"
They had not finished at Christmas.
The wind whistled through the brown foliage, the snow swept through
the valley as it did on the high mountains. The Ice-Maiden sat in her
proud castle and arrayed herself in her winter costume; the ice walls
stood in glazed frost; where the mountain streams waved their watery
veil in summer, were now seen thick elephantine icicles, shining
garlands of ice, formed of fantastic ice crystals, encircled the
fir-trees, which were powdered with snow.
The Ice-Maiden rode on the blustering wind over the deepest valleys.
The snow covering lay over all Bex; Rudy stayed in doors more than was
his wont, and sat with Babette. The wedding was to take place in the
summer; their friends talked so much of it that it often made their
ears burn. All was sunshine with them, and the loveliest alpine rose
was Babette, the sprightly, laughing Babette, who was as charming as
the early spring; the spring that makes the birds sing, that will
bring the summer time and the wedding day.
"How can they sit there and hang over each other," exclaimed the
parlour-cat, "I am really tired of their eternal mewing!"
IX.
THE ICE-MAIDEN.
The early spring time had unfolded the green leaves of the walnut and
chestnut trees; they were remarkably luxuriant from the bridge of St.
Maurice to the banks of the lake of Geneva.
The Rhone, which rushes forth from its source, has under the green
glacier the palace of the Ice-Maiden. She is carried by it and the
sharp wind to the elevated snow-fields, where she extends herself on
her damp cushions in the brilliant sunshine. There she sits and gazes,
with far-seeing sight, upon the valley where mortals busily move about
like so many ants.
"Beings endowed with mental powers, as the children of the Sun, call
you," said the Ice-Maiden--"ye are worms! _One_ snow-ball rolled and
you and your houses and towns are crushed and swept away!" She raised
her proud head still higher and looked with death-beaming eyes far
around and below her. From the valley resounded a rumbling, a blasting
of rocks, men were making railways and tunnels. "They are playing like
moles," said she, "they excavate passages, and a noise is made like
the firing of a gun. When I transpose _my_ castles, it roars louder
than the rolling of the thunder!"
A smoke arose from the valley and moved along like a floating veil,
like a waving plume; it was the locomotive which led the train over
the newly built railroad--this crooked snake, whose limbs are formed
of cars upon cars. It shot along with the speed of an arrow.
"They are playing the masters with their mental powers," said the
Ice-Maiden, "but the powers of nature are the ruling ones!" and she
laughed and her laugh was echoed in the valley.
"Now an avalanche is rolling!" said the men below.
Still more loudly sang the children of the Sun; they sang of the
"thoughts" of men which fetter the sea to the yoke, cut down mountains
and fill up valleys; of human thoughts which rule the powers of
nature. At this moment, a company of travellers crossed the snow-field
where the Maiden sat; they had bound themselves firmly together with
ropes, in order to form a large body on the smooth ice-field by the
deep abyss.
"Worms!" said she, "as if you were lords of creation!" She turned from
them and looked mockingly upon the deep valley, where the cars were
rushing by.
"There sit those _thoughts_ in their power of strength! I see them
all!--There sits one, proud as a king and alone! They sit in masses!
There, half are asleep! When the steam-dragon stops, they will descend
and go their way! The thoughts go out into the world!" She laughed.
"There rolls another avalanche!" they said in the valley.
"It will not catch us!" said two on the back of the steam
dragon;--"two souls and one thought"--these were Rudy and Babette; the
miller was there also.
"As baggage," said he, "I go along, as the indispensable!"
"There sit the two," said the Ice-Maiden, "I have crushed many a
chamois; I have bent and broken millions of alpine roses, so that no
roots were left! I shall annihilate _them_! The thoughts! The mental
powers!" She laughed.
"There rolls another avalanche!" they said in the valley.
X.
THE GOD-MOTHER.
In Montreux, one of the adjoining towns, which with Clarens, Vernex
and Crin forms a garland around the northeast part of the lake of
Geneva, dwelt Babette's god-mother, a distinguished English lady, with
her daughters and a young relation. Although she had but lately
arrived, the miller had already made her his visit and announced
Babette's engagement; had spoken of Rudy and the eaglet; of the visit
to Interlaken and in short had told the whole story. This had rejoiced
her in the highest degree, both for Rudy and Babette's sake, as well
as for the miller's; they must all visit her--therefore they came.
Babette was to see her god-mother, and the god-mother was to see
Babette.
At the end of the lake of Geneva, by the little town of Villeneuve,
lay the steam-boat which after half an hour's trip from Vernex,
arrived at Montreux. This is one of the coasts which are sung of by
the poets. Here sat Byron, by the deep bluish green lake, under the
walnut trees and wrote his melodious verses upon the prisoner of the
deep sombre castle of Chillon. Here, where Clarens with its weeping
willows, mirrored itself in the waters, once wandered Rousseau and
dreamt of Heloise. Yonder, where the Rhone glides along under Savoy's
snow-topped mountains and not far from its mouth, in the lake lies a
little island, indeed it is so small, that from the coast it is taken
for a vessel. It is a valley between the rocks, which a lady caused
to be dammed up a hundred years ago and to be covered with earth and
planted with three acacia-trees, which now shade the whole island.
Babette was quite charmed with this little spot; they must and should
go there, yes, it must be charming beyond description to be on the
island; but the steamer sailed by, and stopped as it should, at
Vernex.
The little party wandered between the white, sunlighted walls, which
surround the vineyards of the little mountain town of Montreux,
through the fig-trees which flourish before every peasant's house and
in whose gardens, the laurel and cypress trees are green. Half-way up
the hill stood the boarding house where the god-mother resided.
The reception was very cordial. The god-mother was a large amiable
person and had a round smiling countenance; as a child she must have
had a real Raphael's angel head, but now it was an old angel's head
with silvery white hair, well curled. The daughters were tall,
slender, refined and much dressed. The young cousin who was with them,
was clad in white from head to foot; he had golden hair and immense
whiskers; he immediately showed little Babette the greatest attention.
Richly bound books, loose music and drawings lay strewn about the
large table; the balcony door stood open and one had a view of the
beautiful out-spread lake, which was so shining, so still, that the
mountains of Savoy with their little villages, their forest and their
snowy peaks mirrored themselves in it.
Rudy, who usually was so full of life, so merry and so daring, did not
feel in his element; he moved about over the smooth floor as though
he were treading on peas. How wearily the time dragged along, it was
just as if one was in a tread mill! If they did go walking, why, that
was just as slow; Rudy could take two steps forwards and two steps
backwards and still remain in the pace of the others.
When they came to Chillon, (the old sombre castle on the rocky island)
they entered in order to see the dungeon and the martyr's stake, as
well as the rusty chains on the wall; the stone bed for those
condemned to death and the trap-door where the wretched beings impaled
on iron goads, were hurled into the breakers. It was a place of
execution elevated through Byron's song to the world of poetry. Rudy
was sad, he lent over the broad stone sill of the window, gazed into
the deep blue water and over to the little solitary island with its
three acacias and wished himself there, free from the whole gossiping
society. Babette was remarkably merry, she had been indescribably
amused. The cousin found her perfect.
"Yes, a perfect jackanapes!" said Rudy; this was the first time, that
he had said something, that did not please her. The Englishman had
presented her with a little book, as a souvenir of Chillon,--Byron's
poem of "The Prisoner of Chillon," in the French language, so that
Babette might read it.
"The book may be good," said Rudy, "but the finely combed fellow that
gave it to you does not please me!"
"He looked like a meal-bag, without meal in it!" said the miller and
laughed at his own wit. Rudy laughed and thought that this was very
well said.
XI.
THE COUSIN.
When Rudy came to the mill, a couple of days afterwards, he found the
young Englishman there. Babette had just cooked some trout for him and
had dressed them with parsley in order to make them appear more
inviting. That was assuredly not necessary. What did the Englishman
want here? Did he come in order to have Babette entertain and wait
upon him?
Rudy was jealous and that amused Babette; it rejoiced her, to learn
the feelings of his heart, the strong as well as the weak ones.