An unexpected event has recently occurred.
A few days ago I received a letter from my former pupil, our present
master.
Hermann wrote that he had used the herbs, which I had sent him from the
wood-cutter, and since then the condition of his health was somewhat
improved. This had suggested to him the advisability of visiting the
mountains, with which he was not yet acquainted, and of spending a few
days here in the mild early autumn. His intention would be to travel
alone, for people, especially those of the city, were unspeakably
repulsive to him, that being probably a peculiarity of his nervous
state, which he was unable to overcome. Weary of the world, he wished
to seek restoration in the wilderness and in the primeval freshness of
the Alps. He still remembered me, his former tutor, as well as my
services in the Winkel forests, and he begged me to be his guide in the
mountains and on a certain day to meet him in the village of Grabenegg.
Grabenegg, a good day's journey from here, is not a village, but
consists only of a few stone-cutters' huts which stand near the Ziller
road and receive their name from the mountain defile which begins at
this point.
On the day mentioned I arrived at the appointed place and there awaited
the master of the forest, who also came as agreed, having driven over in
a hired carriage. I then proceeded with him toward the high mountains.
Hermann's appearance thoroughly alarmed me; I should not have recognised
him, but he, on the contrary, at the first glance addressed me as
Andreas. His greeting was polite, although the poor man showed plainly
that he was surfeited with life.
The road extended as far as the rocky mountain-pass. Here Herr von
Schrankenheim sent back the carriage and over the rough paths, trodden
by the deer, we entered the wilderness, where, upon the heights,
gleaming glaciers were lodged. My companion walked ahead, sometimes
gloomily and defiantly, sometimes with the eagerness of the hunter on
the track of the deer. I did not know where the man wished to go, or
what he desired; he himself did not know. I was seized with anxiety
lest we should not find shelter for the night, but on my communicating
my fears to him, he burst into a laugh and strode onward.
Suddenly the idea occurred to me, what if I should be wandering with a
lunatic! Had the Graue Zahn fallen at my feet, my heart could not have
beaten more quickly than at this thought.
I begged and warned the Baron, but I was unable to stop him; he would
pause only for a moment at the edge of the precipices, cast one glance
into the abyss below and then hasten forward. His limbs trembled and
great drops stood upon his forehead, as at last in the gathering
twilight he fell exhausted beside a mountain spring.
In that hour I promised the dear God everything, everything if He would
but lead us to a shelter. He heard my prayer. Not far from the spring,
between the two walls of the defile, I discovered a hut, such as are
erected by the chamois-hunters.
And under this roof, in the midst of the terrors of the wilderness, I
made a fire and from moss and shrubs prepared a bed for the Baron.
We ate the food which we had brought with us and drank the water from
the spring. When the meal was over, my companion leaned back against
the mossy wall murmuring: "How refreshing! How refreshing!"
And after a while he looked at me and said: "Friend, I thank you for
being with me. I am ill. But here I shall be healed. This is the water
which the hunted deer drinks, is it not? I have led a wild life--very
wild! I have found that man is not a toy! And now at last I have
fortunately escaped the doctors. I have no desire to lie in a metallic
coffin; it savours of pomp, of gold and silk, of artificial
tears--_pfui_!"
To my relief he soon fell asleep. I watched the whole night,
endeavouring to devise a means of taking the poor, sick man to some
human habitation. We were in a remote place and, to reach Winkelsteg,
we should be obliged to cross the mountains.
The next morning, after I had made a new fire and the sun was already
shining through the chinks in the wall, the man awoke, and looking about
him in astonishment, said: "Good-morning, Andreas!"
He then began to prepare for the journey.
"I wish to climb the high mountain which they call the Graue Zahn," he
said; "I should like once to look down upon this world from a high
place. Can you not accompany me and arrange to take one or two men with
us? Have no anxiety on my account. Yesterday was a bad day. I
wandered, restless and forlorn and without aim, through the wilderness,
endeavouring to escape from myself as I had escaped from men in the
world without. I was overcome with all the pain of my misery. But this
air is healing me--oh, this pure, blessed air!"
On leaving the hut, we were obliged to shade our eyes with our hands,
the light was so dazzling. The branches of the pines were a golden red
and in the shadow of the thicket trembled dew-drops, which already
reflected the sunlight through the trees. The birds were holding a
jubilee and squirrels were frisking about looking for their mates and
their breakfast. The dry leaves of a young beech were gently swaying in
the mild morning air.
Hermann smiled and we proceeded on our way. A thin mist shimmered
through the branches, and a cool breeze fanned our cheeks. Suddenly a
flood of light filled the forest, and each tree stretched out its
arms--silently and reverently pointing to a wonderful picture.
A peaceful lake lies at our feet, stretching far into the distance,
blue, green, black--who can tell the colour? On the banks of the
eastern side, the dark mountain forest, softly veiled in bright
sunbeams, slopes upward from the grey, pebbly beach. On the opposite
shore towers a massive wall of rock, behind which are piled crag upon
crag, precipice upon precipice up to the highest peaks and cones and
spires which pierce the blue sky above. The mountains, ever varying in
form, stretch away in a great half circle, glorious beyond all
description. Here below are grassy slopes dotted with tufts of
juniper-bushes, green as velvet. In the distance are waterfalls,
milk-white and slender as a thread, their roaring heard by no human ear,
for the sound is lost in space; beyond on the mountain sides are rocky
wastes and dry river-beds, each little stone clearly outlined in the
crystalline air; farther on deep gorges, their dark recesses filled with
snow; and above all tower the massive weather-beaten rocks, silent and
sinister in their eternal repose.
An eagle soars into the blue ether: now like a black spot, now like a
silvery leaf the bird circles about the rocky peaks. And on the distant
heights, shining glaciers softly lean against the red gleaming sides of
precipices, on which the chisel of Time is constantly cutting, engraving
thereon the never-ending history and the inflexible laws of nature.
I see it still, see everything clear and distinct before my eyes,--the
lake in the valley, above which towers the Graue Zahn.
I had already beheld similar scenes, nevertheless the glory of this one
quite overcame me. But the Baron stood there like a statue. He gazed,
absorbed in the endless picture; his trembling lips inhaled the air of
the lake.
We then descended to the shady banks, where the water was splashing over
the worn stones.
"This lake so smooth to-day, must be very wild at times," my companion
remarked. "Just see how far up the precipice the stones have been
washed smooth by the waves."
By these words I perceived that Hermann had an intelligent eye for
nature. "Yes indeed, this lake can become a boisterous companion,
although now it looks so mild and peaceful."
A remarkable incident then suddenly occurred. Below, where the bushes
dipped into the lake, a human head emerged. The water dripped from the
long, brown curls and blooming face. The neck and throat were somewhat
sunburnt, but the softly moulded, undulating shoulders were like
snow-white marble. A young, beautiful woman, a mermaid! _Mein Gott_, it
was enough to make one a poet!
The Baron, being shorter-sighted than I, approached the apparition, and
in the same moment the figure sank out of sight and the alders, swayed
over the water as before.
Hermann gazed at me. I gazed into the lake, the surface of which moved
in soft rings and bubbles and dark lines, here smooth as a mirror,
yonder trembling and rippling. But the head of the maiden did not
appear again. Several minutes elapsed while with a beating heart I
looked for the bather, for who knew if she were able to swim, and the
thought suddenly flashed through my mind: What if the girl out of
modesty had sought a grave for herself beneath the waves!
After much anxiety and alarm I at last drew the unconscious child from
the water. With our small experience, we finally restored her to
life--to her life of seventeen years. And thereupon the shy creature,
scarcely revived and having been clothed by our assistance, sprang to
her feet and darted away through the forest, her fright giving her
strength.
The Baron, holding his head with both hands, cried: "Andreas! my malady
is returning; I have visions, I have seen a fairy!"
"That is no fairy," I answered; "it is the daughter of the wood-cutter
who sent you the herbs."
It was Waldlilie.