kingly of our
Indians; their complexion is a dark brown, and their eyes and hair are
black as night. These belonged to a small tribe who wander through the
forests of Bohemia, and support themselves by cheating and stealing.

We stopped the fourth night at Enns, a small city on the river of the
same name, which divides Upper from Lower Austria. After leaving the
beautiful little village where we passed the night before, the road
ascended one of those long ranges of hills, which stretch off from the
Danube towards the Alps. We walked for miles over the broad and uneven
summit, enjoying the enchanting view which opened on both sides. If we
looked to the right, we could trace the windings of the Danube for
twenty miles, his current filled with green, wooded islands; white
cities lie at the foot of the hills, which, covered to the summit with
grain fields and vineyards, extended back one behind another, till the
farthest were lost in the distance. I was glad we had taken the way from
Vienna to Linz by land, for from the heights we had a view of the whole
course of the Danube, enjoying besides, the beauty of the inland vales
and the far-off Styrian Alps. From the hills we passed over we could see
the snowy range as far as the Alps of Salzburg--some of them seemed
robed to the very base in their white mantles. In the morning the
glaciers on their summit glittered like stars; it was the first time I
saw the sun reflected at a hundred miles' distance!

On descending we came into a garden-like plain, over which rose the
towers of Enns, built by the ransom money paid to Austria for the
deliverance of the Lion-hearted Richard. The country legends say that
St. Florian was thrown into the river by the Romans in the third
century, with a millstone around his neck, which, however, held him
above the water like cork, until he had finished preaching them a
sermon. In the villages we often saw his imago painted on the houses, in
the act of pouring a pail of water on a burning building, with the
inscription beneath--"Oh, holy Florian, pray for us!" This was supposed
to be a charm against fire. In Upper Austria, it is customary to erect a
shrine on the road, wherever an accident has happened, with a painting
and description of it, and an admonition to all passers-by to pray for
the soul of the unfortunate person. On one of them, for instance, was a
cart with a wild ox, which a man was holding by the horns; a woman
kneeling by the wheels a