dge as
possible, and peering into the green depths.

The Goat-mother leant over, too; but in stooping her head her bonnet
became loosened, and slid with a loud _swish_ down the ice, darting
from side to side until it disappeared from sight in the darkness.

"Oh, what misfortunes! My child, my shawl, and my bonnet, _all_ gone
together!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Take hold of the rope, my
Pyto, and let us at all events rescue _you_!"

"All right, mother," cried the distant voice. "Don't drag me up till I
call out '_Pull_.'"

In a few minutes the Goat-mother and Heinrich, listening intently,
heard the welcome shout, and pulling both together they landed
Pyto--very much bruised and shaken, but not otherwise hurt--upon the
Glacier beside them.

"Oh, what a warning!" cried the Goat-mother, and after embracing Pyto
warmly, she turned to look for the cuckoo clock. But it had
tobogganed down a steep bank into an ice stream close by, and was
floating away in the distance, _cuckooing_ at intervals as it danced
up and down upon the water.

Two travellers who had just reached the opposite bank, paused in
astonishment to listen.

"You see," said one, "this proves what I have always told you. Nothing
is impossible to Nature. You may even hear cuckoos on a Glacier!"

CHAPTER VII.

The Goat-mother arrived at home in a pitiable state of cold and
exhaustion, but she was much cheered by finding the house in good
order, and a warm supper awaiting her, prepared by the hands of the
careful Stein-bok.

Lizbet and Lenora immediately started off with the Royal Order; which
was sealed with a large crown of red sealing wax fastening down a wisp
of mauve hair.

The next morning all the Goats of the neighbourhood collected in a
secret cavern, where they held a patriotic meeting, and discussed
their plans for the rescue and protection of the Heif-father.

Six of the strongest and most daring spirits were to start that
afternoon for the Inn on the other side of the Glacier, while the rest
of the Free-will corps would take it in turns to remain in ambush in
the Heif-goat's garden, in case the Chamois should attempt their raid
before the day they had appointed.

They all agreed that the corps should be armed to the teeth, and there
was such a demand for sandpaper that the store in the Stein-bok's pack
was soon exhausted.

"A rusty sword is all the deadlier, when it once gets in," said the
Goat-Lieutenant. "I shan't trouble my