We are relieved of a great anxiety. The storm has subsided. A light
wind has arisen and gently released the trees from their burden. There
have been a few mild days, during which the snow has settled and with
snow-shoes we can now walk where we please.
But during this time a curious incident has taken place over in
Karwaesser. Berthold, whose family increases from year to year, while
their supply of food grows less, has become a poacher. The Holdenschlag
priest, although a weak-hearted hypocrite, pretends to understand life
better than we, and says, poor people should not marry. According to
conventional ideas and customs, Berthold and Aga are not married, but
they have knelt before me in the woods ... and--now the whole family are
starving. Am I responsible? Alas, the blessing which I gave them is of
no avail! Oh, my God, Thine is the power; as in my youth I have already
committed one crime, grant that _this_ may not prove to be one as well.
So Berthold has become a poacher. The profits of wood-cutting do not
reach far in a house full of children. I have sent him what I can in
the way of food. Whenever he wishes a nourishing broth for his sick
wife and a bit of meat for the children, he shoots the deer that come in
his way. And as misfortune often changes one's character, Berthold, who
as shepherd was such a good and happy lad, has, through poverty, spite,
and love for his family, grown to be a lawbreaker.
I have already begged the forester, for God's sake, to look after the
poor man a little, assuring the former that Berthold would certainly
improve and that I would stand bail for him. But up to the present time
there has been no change for the better; and that which has happened
during these wild winter days has made him weep aloud, for he loves his
Waldlilie above everything.
It is a dark winter evening. The windows are covered with moss;
outside, the fresh flakes fall upon the old snow. Berthold is staying
with the children and the sick Aga, until the eldest daughter, Lili,
shall return with the milk, which she has gone to beg from a hermit near
by in Hinterkar; for the goats in the house have been killed and eaten;
and as soon as Lili arrives, it is Berthold's intention to go up into
the forest with his gun. In such weather one need not seek far to find
the deer.
But it grows dark and Lili has not yet returned. The fall of snow
becomes heavier and denser; night approaches, and still no Lili. The
children are already crying for the milk; the father is eager for the
game; the mother raises herself in bed. "Lili!" she cries. "Child,
where art thou straying in this pitch-dark forest? Come home!"
How can the weak voice of the invalid reach the ear of the wanderer
through the wild snow-storm?
The darker and stormier the night becomes, the stronger is Berthold's
longing for the game and the deeper his anxiety for his Waldlilie. She
is a delicate twelve-year-old girl; to be sure she knows the paths and
the ravines, but the former are covered with snow, the latter concealed
by the darkness.
Finally, the man leaves the house to seek for his child. For hours he
wanders about calling through the storm-swept wilderness; the wind blows
the snow into his eyes and mouth; he is obliged to use his entire
strength to regain the hut.
And now two days pass; the storm abates and Berthold's hut is nearly
snow-bound. They comfort themselves with the thought that Lili is
surely with the hermit. This hope is destroyed on the third day, when,
after a long struggle through the drifts, Berthold at last succeeds in
reaching the hermitage.
Lili had indeed been there three days ago and had started in good time
on her homeward way with her jug of milk.
"So my Waldlilie lies buried in the snow!" Berthold cries. He then goes
to the other wood-cutters and begs, as no one has ever heard this man
beg before, that they will come and help him seek for his dead child.
On the evening of the same day they find Waldlilie.
In a wooded ravine, in a dark tangled thicket of young firs and pines,
through which no flake of snow can force itself and above which the mass
of snow has piled and drifted, so that the young trees groan with the
weight, upon the hard pine-needles on the ground, surrounded by a family
group of six deer, sits the sweet, pale Waldlilie.
It was a most remarkable circumstance. The child had lost herself in
the ravine on her way home, and, as she could no longer resist the
drifting snow, she crept into the dry thicket to rest. But she was not
long alone. Her eyes had scarcely begun to close, before a herd of
deer, old and young, joined her; they sniffed about the girl and gazed
at her with their mild eyes full of intelligence and sympathy, for of
this human being they were not afraid. They remained with her, laid
themselves upon the ground, nibbled the trees, licked one another,
apparently undisturbed by her presence; the thicket was their winter
home.
The next day the snow had enveloped them all. Waldlilie sat in the dim
light and drank the milk which she was to have carried to her family,
nestling against the good creatures to keep from freezing in the
chilling air.
Thus the terrible hours passed by. And just as Waldlilie was about to
lay herself down to die and in her simplicity was begging the deer to
remain faithfully by her side in the last hour, they suddenly began
sniffing in a most curious manner, raising their heads and pricking up
their ears, then with wild leaps and startled cries they burst through
the thicket, scattering in all directions.
The men forced their way through the snow and underbrush and with a
shout of joy discovered the child, while old Ruepel, who was also there,
called out: "Did I not say, come here, come here, for we may find her
with the deer!"
Thus it happened; and when Berthold heard how the creatures of the
forest had saved his little daughter and had kept her from freezing, he
cried out wildly: "I will never do it again as long as I live!" And his
gun with which he had been shooting the game for many years he dashed in
pieces against a stone.
I saw it myself, for the priest and I were in Karwaesser, assisting in
the search for the child.
This Waldlilie is very gentle and as white as snow, and her eyes are
like those of the deer.