We are having trouble with Kropfjodel's two boys. They refuse to remain
in the Alm hut, insisting that in the night they hear a ceaseless
rapping and gnawing upon the hay-mow. Even though it is mid-summer,
Kropfjodel is obliged to close the hut and drive down the herd. Veit
will no longer wash himself at a spring. He sees in every brook drops
of blood, which cling reproachfully to his hands--the same hands which
destroyed the old man's harp.