ier,
and Heinrich and Pyto were digging in the fields at the back of the
Chalet; when the Stein-bok, in his well-known brown cloth coat,
appeared panting up the narrow pathway.

Throwing himself down on a stone bench, he tossed his Tyrolese hat on
to the ground, and fanned himself with his handkerchief.

"Good morning, Herr Stein-bok. You seem exhausted," said the
Goat-mother.

"I am, ma'am, and well I may be. Five miles with twenty pounds on my
back is no joke, I can assure you."

"Shall I bring you a glass of lager-beer?" enquired the Heif-mother.

"It would be acceptable, ma'am, and then I will tell you my news.
You've heard nothing of the Goat-father, have you?"

"Nothing," said the Goat-mother. "I am beginning to feel very nervous.
I never knew him to stay away two days before."

The Stein-bok looked round darkly.

"I have something to tell you," he whispered. "Prepare for bad news.
The Goat-father has been captured."

The Heif-mother gave a wild shriek, and fell back upon Lizbet, who was
peeling potatoes in the doorway.

"When--where--how--who--what?" she cried frantically. "Tell me at
once, or I shall faint away."

"Be calm, ma'am," said the Stein-bok soothingly. "I heard it from the
Chamois, who have a habit of bounding about everywhere, as you know.
Your dear husband reached the middle of the Glacier in safety,
when--being hampered by a satchel and a green cotton umbrella--he fell
in attempting to jump an ice-pinnacle, and sprained his foot so
severely that he was unable to move. Though he bleated loudly for
help, no one came except some huntsmen who were in search of Chamois.
They picked him up, and dragged him to the Inn on the other side of
the valley, where he was locked up securely in a shed, and there he is
at the present moment."

"My brave Heif in prison! He will never, never survive it!" cried the
Goat-mother, shedding tears in profusion.

"Oh yes he will, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok, "they're not going to
kill him, their idea is to take him down to the village."

"_That_ they shall never do!" cried the Heif-mother, starting up, "not
if I go myself to rescue him! Go, Lizbet, and call your brothers. We
must consult together immediately."

Lizbet darted off, and the Stein-bok continued.

"I have still something else I must let you know, ma'am. As our great
poet observes--

'Whenever green food fades away,
Some dire misfortune comes the self-same day.'

In plain words, t