of green, where the path to Tiefis enters the cavern-like forest. To-day
those curtain-fringes of the dark firs are waving softly to and fro,
stirred by a tepid Fön wind. Now down again, past sundry erratic blocks
and through the newly planted tract to the “nymphe pudique”--the source
of the crayfish stream, which we intend to pursue all the way to
Schlins. A good deal of that fair swamp growth has been cut since our
last visit; enough remains to please the eye. The vale grows wider after
the Tiefis-Bludesch road has been crossed, and the rushes denser; one
realizes why the peasants have called this rivulet “Ried-bach.” It
meanders in desultory fashion about this upper marshy level; then
plunges, all of a sudden, into the wood, and puts on a new character. A
downhill career begins in earnest. Rapids are formed, and islets; all in
the deep shade of those trees through which it glimmers obscurely along.
A kingfisher haunts these dusky reaches (there is another on the upper
Montiola brook); scenery such as this must have been in Poe’s mind when
he wrote “The Island of the Fay.” Soon we pass a small abandoned
reservoir; it is the second spot in the district where bulrushes can be
found--the third is near Bludenz; after that comes a stretch of country
difficult to follow, steep and irregular, a stretch of tortuous windings
and cascades, till the lower level of Schlins is reached, where the
brook enters upon its final phase, gliding demurely, like our own
Feldbächle, through cultivated meadows at the foot of Jagdberg.
It stands to reason that we straightway found ourselves sitting at the
Krone inn, wistful at the thought that this might be our last visit
here. The proprietress is a sweet-natured woman and a stimulating
conversationalist; we talked and talked, while Mr. R. partook of his
traditional two eggs and insisted moreover in drinking “Suser,” freshly
made cider, in spite of my warning about the probable consequences of
such rash behavior, namely, an attack of the “Holde Katarina,” the “Fair
Katherine,” which signifies a loosening of the bowels. The expression is
remarkable as showing the prudishness of these folk in regard to bodily
matters of every kind; alter a letter in that name, and you may divine
its origin. All such things are slurred over, even by grown-up people.
So female dogs are always known as “he”; incredible to relate, our
much-married dachshund-lady is “he.” How different from Mediterranean
countries where sexuality and every other physiological fact is taken
for granted by the smallest children, and emphasized as such; where even
inanimate objects are apt to be invested with the attributes of sex!
Here we stand before a racial divergence of outlook; a gulf.
The cider-harvest promises well. But I have long ago given up pretending
to enjoy this drink, and find it hard to believe that the first time I
ever got tipsy was on such mawkish stuff. Yet so it was. Needless to
say, it was not my own fault; other people were mixed up in the affair;
Jakob, and my sister. Jakob was a smiling, sunburnt villager who looked
after our cows and pigs and also helped at the hay-making; the accident,
therefore, must have occurred at the present season of the year. Now
whatever Jakob did, he did with such peculiar zest that it was a
liberal education to watch him. Nobody could _dengel_ quite like he
could (to _dengel_ is to beat out the blade of a scythe); he threw his
heart and soul into the performance. And nobody could quaff cider with
such infinite gusto; it made you thirsty to look at him. Wherever he
happened to be mowing among the fields, there, close at hand, in the
shade of some tree, stood his jug of blue stoneware out of which he
refreshed himself gloriously, in god-like fashion, from time to time.
When it was empty, he was wont to disappear down the stairs of the
laundry into certain mysterious regions underneath our house and come
back with the jug refilled; and this is where my sister’s rôle begins.
She was three years old at the time; the suggestion, therefore, can only
have come from her; the suggestion, I mean, that we should watch where
Jakob went and then get some cider for ourselves. It was another world
down there, a cool twilight passage running the whole length of the
house, with vaulted chambers on both sides that were lighted by windows
ever so high up. One of them was full of barrels side by side, and one
of those barrels was still dripping. Aha! So that was where Jakob filled
his jug. Now just the least little turn of the tap, and the liquid began
to trickle deliciously down our throats, while we egged each other on to
drink more and more. I have no idea how long we stayed down there. The
countryside was scoured in vain; all traces of the children had
disappeared, and had it not been for Jakob providentially descending to
fetch himself yet another jugful, we might have remained undiscovered
till next morning. As it was, we were picked up senseless and put to
bed.
Seven o’clock--how long one has lingered in this pleasant tavern! Now we
leave, after many farewellings, and wander homewards due east, not
passing the church at all; we cross the streamlet which has accompanied
us hither and immediately enter that wood, familiar by this time, the
once awe-inspiring forest of the----. It is already dark here, under the
firs, but the rich, resinous perfumes of daylight are still hanging in
the air; no dew has fallen to quench them. So we move along the dim path
in silence; we have talked ourselves out, at Schlins.
All those squirrels--what has become of them? In olden days you could
seldom traverse any wood hereabouts without encountering one or more.
Now, during the whole of our stay here, we have seen but two; one black,
one red. Where are they gone? I enquired, and learnt that they had not
been persecuted during the war, as were the moles. To be sure, certain
persons eat squirrels and declare them to be excellent; they did this
already in the days when these animals were numerous. In England, also,
the race seems to be dying out. Has there been some epidemic, or is the
whole squirrel-tribe growing weary of life and contemptuous of the joys
of propagation? Quite lonesome these forests are, without their
squirrels. As to the crested tits--they seem to have vanished
altogether; in fact, the entire titmouse tribe is far less common than
it used to be. Have their nesting-places grown rarer or are they, too,
becoming ascetic? We have wandered leagues and leagues about these
woodlands, and not once have I heard that melodious trill; not once.
Out, into the odorous _pré des papillons_, into a fading, greenish-gray
atmosphere, a kind of elf-land. All is moist here, and mysterious. An
owl sallies forth on our left and circles twice directly overhead, so
close that we can discern her eyes and beak. Then up through misty
fields past a decrepit hay-hut, one of the survivors of the old school
like that near the crayfish-stream, one of those whose planks are
encrusted with sulphur-hued lichen. Now Mr. R. produces his talisman and
plays as we walk in the gloaming; many new _morceaux_ have been “found”
since that day at Blumenegg. Our last concert, possibly! And just when I
was beginning to appreciate, and even understand--which is far more
difficult--this aboriginal music with its up-to-date names!
Marching along I review, in fancy, the many scenes which have lately
flitted before our eyes, and one little memory creeps up among the
throng; I think it will end in submerging them all. It was what we saw
a few days ago during our latest stroll to the ruined Jagdberg. I make a
point, namely, of losing myself on the way there (it is quite easy; you
have only to bear a little to the north in the woods) because, in so
doing, you never fail to see something, however insignificant, which you
never saw before. So it fell out. We duly lost our way and, floundering
down a thickly wooded incline, came to the margin of a small
crescent-shaped bog, surrounded by old firs. It was as solitary a spot
as you might wish to find; for all one knew, the foot of man had never
trodden here. Now I have spoken of the many-tinted vegetation of these
marshy tracts. This one, for reasons which a botanist may expound, was
of another nature. It had been dedicated wholly to gentians.[39] They
shot up from the wet moss--a blaze of the most perfect blue on earth.
Theirs was not a steady light, but shimmering and playful, and of a
luster so intense that no African sky, no sapphire, could have rivaled
it. I plucked one of these portentous flowers. It measured nearly the
length of my walking-stick and was alive with color from end to end.
Conceive a hundred thousand of them, all huddled together among those
somber trees. We seemed to be looking down into a lake of blue fire.
Here, I think, is a memory to cherish; a vision to carry away into other
lands.
* * * * *
Sunday, 3 September. Departure! We leave by the 1 a.m. train to-night.
And it would not be hard to guess where we went this afternoon, for a
final stroll.
There, in the well-known room, was the “old one” as well as her husband,
and the baby looking prettier than ever since her holiday at
Thüringerberg; there also were some twenty other people, peasant-folk,
chatting at tables, and smoking and drinking beer. Sunday! We had
overlooked this fact. And there they would sit, till all hours of the
night. “Not much chance of _embrassez-moi_ in here,” I thought, as I
looked round. Mr. R. remained in the open doorway, and his
disappointment took a tragic turn. He said bitterly:
“What are all our pleasant walks and talks worth now? Ah, I shall have
nothing but unhappy memories of your country.”
“That you shall not,” I declared. “Nobody is to have unhappy memories of
my country, if I can help it. Now this is a moment for heroic measures,
and one little thing has just dawned upon me; what cannot be done inside
a room, may be done outside. Let us sit down, while you order your eggs.
I have it. I have it already. Those eggs.... How lucky you are fond of
eggs. How lucky you have a friend who knows why eggs were created!”
We gave our orders.
“What on earth am I to do?” asked Mr. R.
“You will presently leave the room, without turning round to look at
anybody. Go into the orchard at the back of the house, and wait there.
When the baby arrives, I give you thirty seconds together. Employ them
in a laughing and brotherly fashion, as I told you the other day. Then
you, at least, will return straight here. Thirty seconds. If you mean to
obey to the letter, swear it. Else no baby till the crack of doom. Now,
swear.”
Whereupon Mr. R. swore a great oath in the Mediterranean manner, on the
head, or the honor--on both, I fancy--of his own mother, to obey to the
letter.
“Thirty seconds,” I went on. “Imagine otherwise what might happen if the
old one grew suspicious and went into the orchard! And she may well be
suspicious, after those marconigrams of the other day. What would she
think of us two conspirators? How about my reputation here, in the only
country where, by good luck, I have not yet been found out; where my
family name is a byword for all that is upright and honorable; where my
father, my grandfather.... Just let me hear you swear again.”
Whereupon he swore a second great oath, to the same effect as the first,
on the souls of all his dead ancestors, male and female.
“Thirty seconds.... You can go now. And listen! Clasp her firmly if you
get the chance, or you may bungle the whole affair, and these are the
little accidents one never forgives oneself. After all, it would be a
queer baby who objected to being embraced for thirty seconds by such an
affectionate elder brother. Why should she?”
“I was going to do that anyhow.”
He departed; and presently the fateful eggs arrived and remained on the
table one minute, two minutes. I beckoned Dorothea to my side:
“Will you go and fetch my friend? His eggs are getting cold. You may
find him in the orchard; he is fond of orchards. _Run!_” and I gave her
a gentle push. Whether she perceived the strategy or not, she was off
like an arrow.
What happened under those apple-trees I shall learn in due course of
time, by the simple expedient of asking no questions. Up to this moment
I only know that Mr. R. returned alone, and sat down to his eggs with a
not unsuccessful air of _insouciance_. The baby, I suspect, was in the
kitchen, cooling down that wonderful complexion, and her mother would
doubtless have gone to look for her there, had I not meanwhile entangled
her into a complicated discussion anent the manufacture of Kirschwasser,
a specialty of this village. Thirty thousand kronen a liter, she vowed,
was what they were asking for it. Who was going to pay thirty thousand
kronen? Well, it struck me that one shilling and sixpence for a bottle
and a quarter of the finest Kirschwasser on earth was a fairly
reasonable price.
So far good. I came well out of that little episode....
Endless are the other things we have left undone. Why, we have not even
been up the Walserthal, nor so much as an inch in the direction of that
fairest of all our alps, the Gamperdona behind Nenzing, where twelve
hundred cows are munching and mooing day and night. (The Montavon valley
may take care of itself; it is full of tourists). And of hills, real
hills, nothing has been climbed save the poor old Scesaplana. I had
intended to take Mr. R. on some mountain which has more flavor to it,
even though it be not so high--the Drei Schwestern, for instance, above
Frastanz, about which my father also wrote a paper; or the Widderstein,
or the Kanisfluh. There, on the Kanisfluh, he might have satisfied his
craving for edelweiss.
No matter. The mountains can wait for another season.
One is sorry, none the less, not to have witnessed the boisterous
procession of cattle returning from their summer pastures, the woodlands
changing to gold, and that first September hoar-frost which melts at
noon, when drops of moisture glisten on every spider-web; sorry not to
have seen the gay fungus-people starting out of the dank earth. And here
are plums on their trees, almost ripe. Such a crop there never was.
Another week, and they would have been ready to be converted into the
first of those ambrosial tarts which are smothered, at the last moment,
under a deluge of whipped cream and then devoured so dutifully that, on
rising from table, you cannot but feel a kind of bewildered reverence
for the capacity of the human stomach. Only another week: how provoking!
No matter. We have had a breath of fresh air together.
THE END
INDEX
_Index_
_Adneter Kalk_, pink marble, 143, 181
Aldertree, connected with name of province, 153
Alemannic settlement of province, 62;
specimen of dialect, 139
_Algäu-schiefer_, Liassic shale, 145, 148
Alpila, alp, 62
Alpine rose (rhododendron), 6, 136, 143
Anna, the old nurse, her passion for idiots and corpses, 39-40;
for wolf-stories, 214;
gets it hot, 95;
shakes chocolate from a tree, 213;
not old at all, 214
Ants, unreliable workmen, 124
Aretius, botanist, 240
Arlberg, mountain pass, boundary of province, 53;
railway under, 150;
derivation of name, 153;
wine transport over, 197
Aurora borealis, 5
Badger, a tame, 28;
its fat, 116
Bädle inn (Nüziders), 186
Bädle inn (Tiefis), 135
Baedeker, 150
_Bährenloch_, artificial cavern, 26-28, 125, 184
Bats, as pets, 28
Bears, 188
Beautification Society, of Bludenz, 27, 186;
of Blumenegg, 172
Beaver, shot on the Elbe, 129
Beds, local, their discomforts, 3;
double, their uses, 222
Bergmann, Prof. Joseph, 53
Berlepsch, H. A., 188
Bernhardt, B. (Velcurio), the first married priest, 169
Birds, various, 125-130, 181, 235, 239
_Blaufelchen_, 206-208.
_See_ Coregonus.
Bludenz, town, 6, 23, 29, 48, 53, 59, 112, 114, 145, 147, 152, 157, 187, 235;
destroyed by fire, 132;
its museum, 139;
height above sea-level, 184
Bludesch, village, 44, 46, 48, 60, 163, 190, 234;
derivation of name, 62;
its former vineyards, 198;
old school-house, 215;
Krone inn, 216
Blumenegg, castle-ruin, origin of name, 72;
its charm and history, 74-80;
waterfall, 75, 172;
popular reception of its lords, 55;
their enactments, 136;
contrasted with Jagdberg ruin, 174
Boar, wild, 187
Bock, Hieronymus, botanist, 73
Bolshevism, manufacture of, 113
Brand, village, 157
Bratz, village, 111
Bregenz, town, 53, 129, 187;
museum and libraries, 151, 181, 198, 214, 216;
Protestant cemetery, 200;
ostensible reasons for going there, 198;
real reason, 206
Bregenzerwald, district, 32, 53, 187
Brehm, A. E., 184
Bruhin, Th. A., monk-naturalist, 91-93;
on woodpecker, 129;
on _salamandra maculosa_, 184;
on wild beasts of province, 187, 188;
Professor at Meherau, 199
_Brunnenmacher_ (father) mountaineer, presumably hirsute, 25;
(son) mountaineer, indubitably hirsute, 25;
his smile and his blasphemies, 25, 26;
takes author in hand, 28, 128
Buchboden, village, 91
Bulrushes, 100, 231
Bürs, village, 126, 127, 179, 185
Bürserberg, village, 126
Butter, smuggled into Switzerland, 114
Butterflies, various, 7, 117, 118, 169;
frozen on snowfield, 158
Capercailzie, 60-61
Castle-ruins, their charming designations, 72
Celtic inhabitants of province, 62, 151, 152;
hill-fort, 151;
place-names, 169
Cement, an abomination, 77, 132, 225
Cemeteries, poetic German names for, 71
Chamois, 101, 144, 145;
shoots taken by Swiss, 33;
how to bag, 157
“Château aux fenêtres.” _See_ Jordan
_Chronicon Hirsaugiense_, destroyed by fire, 78
Cider, getting tipsy on, 237
Climate, grows damper, 197
Clutterbuck, Mr., a droll personage, 224
Cocoa, an abomination, 10
Cockchafer. _See_ Engerlinge.
Coffee, how to roast, 34
Constance, lake of, 6, 53, 129, 152, 198
_Coregonus_, a delectable fish, 206
Costumes, local, 53
Cotterill, H. B., 85
Cotton mills, family property, 61, 64
Cows, explode from over-eating, 208
Crayfish, 44
_Crétins_, not discoverable hereabouts, 39
Currency, effects of its depreciation, 109-15
Dachshund, lady-dog, sets a bad example, 4
Dalaas, village, 139, 149, 180
Dalla Torre, Prof. quoted, 93
Dolls, massacre of, 217
_Dorfberg_, an ancient road, 40, 41
Dornbirn, borough, 188
Douglass, John, why he settled in Austria, 62;
his way with beggars, 64, 66
Douglass, John Sholto, climbs the Zimba, 21-23;
president of provincial Alpine Club, 24;
carries on business of his father, 66;
his paper on Rothe Wand, 137;
fatal accident, 138, 144, 148-150;
writings, 150-154;
Lünersee hut called after him, 159;
discovers mammoth-tusk, 181;
his disciplinary measures, 222, 223
Drei Schwestern, mountain, 245
Druso, Drusenfluh, etc., pre-Roman names, 153
Drusus, Roman general, 62, 152
Düns, village, 169
Edelweiss, 8, 245
Edelraute, plant, 143
Education, in France, 14;
a sound, 40
Elephant-trap, a disused, 117
Elk, discovery of skull and horns of, 139
Els alp, 147
Elser Schröfen, cliffs, crossing their talus, 145-147;
due to disrupture, 147
_Engerlinge_, cockchafer-larvæ, destructive to crops, 110
Erratic blocks, 180, 189, 190, 234
Eulenloch, dell, 44
Falling in love, with a mountain, 30
Falster, torrent, 72;
derivation of name, 63
Feldbächle, stream, 61, 235;
going to bed in, 63.
_See_ Montiola.
Feldkirch, town, 53, 73, 115, 150, 152, 169;
former vineyards at, 197
Fire, destruction of villages by 42, 71, 126-128
Fishery regulations of 1690, 136
Florimont. _See_ Blumenegg.
Flowers, favorite, 73, 180
Fön wind, derivation of name, 63;
responsible for outbreaks of fire, 71, 134;
transports butterflies, 158
Fontanella, village, 62
Food, local specialties, 11-12
“Forêt nordique,” tract of wood, 135, 136
Forests, their charm, 41, 42, 102
Formaletsch, mountain, 139
Formarin lake, 139, 143, 144, 155, 181;
derivation of name, 63
Fossils, where found, 181
Fox, as pet, 28;
civil behavior of a, 182
Frastafeders, castle-ruin, 63
Frastanz, village, 137, 245;
battle of, 220
Freiburger hut, 181
Freytag, Gustav, 80
Furkla alp, 6, 147
Gais, locality, 62, 66, 224
Galgen-tobel, torrent, 29, 147, 184
Gamperdona, alp, 244;
derivation of name, 63
Gamsboden, mountain, 143 _seq._
Garnets, hunting for, 54, 180
Gasünd, hamlet, 126
Geiger, Dr., prescribes only camomile, 46
Gentians, 240
Gesner, Conrad, 240
Gleziska, meadow, 213, 214
Gluttony, when to be discouraged, 12;
when permissible, 13
Goats, legislation regarding, 136
Goitre, 43
Grabherr, Joseph, on Blumenegg rule, 136
Grand-aunts, the delight of childhood, 41, 47, 96, 218
Grandfather, maternal, a feudal monster, always spick-and-span, 200;
excavates in imagination the Acropolis of Athens, 201, 202;
tells Prince Consort how to handle Queen Victoria, 202;
sometimes mistaken for an angel, 203;
dominates his harim, 204, 205;
vicious to the last, 205
Grandmother, paternal, applies Gregory’s Powder with unexpected result, 97;
her attitude towards tobacco, 100;
insists upon recitations of “Marmion” and gets them, 103;
devours roly-poly _pour encourager les autres_, 104
Grimm’s Fairy Tales, occasionally inane, 17
Gross Litzner, mountain, 144
Gstinswald, forest, 72, 73
Halde Wässerle, spring, 184
Halden zu Haldenegg, von der, noble family, 216
Haller, A. von, 221, 240
Hanging Stone, cliff, 73, 77, 134, 180, 186, 187
Hard, village, 129
Hare, how to shoot, 127;
how not to cook, 207
Hay-huts, change in style of building, 45, 214, 239
Hexenthurm, rock-needle, 138
Hinedo, Peter, author, 14
Hirsch-sprung (Stag’s Leap), meadow, 42, 44, 45
Hochgerach, mountain, 6
Hohenems, borough, 181
Hoher Frassen, mountain, 6, 137;
death on, 24
Honstetter, Karl, taxidermist, 129
Horse-flies, a pest, 61
Hüttenwanzen, not wanted hereabouts, 25
Ibex, a Swiss, 129
Idiots, 13, 37;
indifferent specimens of, 38;
types of the old school, 39
Ill, river, 53, 55, 59;
recently embanked, 54;
its prehistoric shore, 148;
new bridges over, 230
Jagdberg, castle-ruin, 172-176, 235, 240
Jakob, a villager worth watching, 236
Jordan, ruined mansion, 163 _seq._, 189
Josefinum, refuge for children, 172 _seq._
Jumbo the jovial, not like the rest of them, 91
Kanisfluh, mountain, 138, 245
Kaufmann, Angelika, 32, 199
Keilpolster, an abomination, 3
Kirschwasser, present price of, 244
Kloster alp, awful experience on, 7
Krupsertobel, torrent, 29
Kuhloch, natural arch, 126
Lämmergeier, 29, 129
Lagutz, alp, 129, 155;
derivation of name, 63
Lake dwellings, former, destroyed by fire, 71;
persist into Roman times, 151;
relics of, 152;
their grape-cultivation, 198
Lamb, Charles, 86
_Landregen_, a persistent drizzle, 3, 33
Lasko, dog, his well, 229, 230, 231, 234
Lasko the Second, dog, 231
Latz, hamlet, 185
Lauterach, village, 152
Lech, river, 53
Lech, village, 33, 101, 155
Lindau, island, 152
Lindenspeur, G. L. von, builder of Jordan mansion, 163, 174;
fond of windows, 165
Lorüns, village, 181, 184
Ludesch, village, 72, 73, 78, 115, 189, 239;
its rifle range, 32, 116;
derivation of name, 62
Ludescherberg, hamlet, 6, 100
Lünersee, lake, its shelter-hut, 24, 159
Lutz, river, 53, 58, 59, 72, 73;
recently embanked, 54;
derivation of name, 62;
its prehistoric shore, 116;
old bridge over, 230
Lynx, 187
MacDougal, Skye-terrier, specializes in cats, 233, 234
Mammoth tusk, 181
Mangili, Prof., 9
Maple trees, 99
Marmot, lives in colonies, 8, 143;
its fat, 8;
ingratitude of a hibernating, 9;
freakish dentition of a, 10;
derivation of popular name, 63
Marshes, their vegetation, 44, 240
Martens, 115
Marul, village, 129, 147, 155
Mattli, sportsman and station-master, 127-128;
on last wolf, 187
Mauren, village, 151
Mehrerau, convent, 199
Mellau, village, 138
Midwives, raise their tariff, 115
Milton, his botany, 85, 86
Minerals, where found, 180
Moles, destruction of, 110, 115
Mondspitze, Mountain, 6
Montavon, valley, 9, 23, 53, 244
Montiola, brook, 61-64, 125, 135, 137, 235;
its source, 136, 138.
_See_ Feldbächle.
Moralists, their limitations, 86
Münster, Sebastian, 169
Nauders, village, 188
Nenzing, village, 53, 58, 60, 172, 188, 244
Nüziders, village, 148, 186;
destroyed by fire, 71, 134
“Nymphe pudique,” fountain, 46, 234
Oak, a memorable, 77
Obdorf, village, 184
Ortler, mountain, 159
Ovid, blunders in botany, 85
Palladas, grammarian, English rendering of his epigram, 167
Peasants, their grievances, 111;
catch pneumonia supervising cows at pasture, 209
Petrifying brook, a marvel, 41, 64, 189, 213
Pines, a region of stunted, 59
Pines, dwarf, their local names, 6, 153;
deserve protection, 7
Piz Buin, mountain, 150
Piz Linard, mountain, 150
_Plumeau_, an abomination, 3
Plum-tarts, how to eat, 245
Poets, should avoid towns, 84;
generally born naked, 168;
talk nonsense about pomegranates, 206