ondmen tread the battle-plain,
Culled by his glorious soul in vain
To win their rights of yore.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE AUSTRIAN ALPS.

It was nearly dark when we came to the end of the plain and looked on
the city at our feet and the lovely lake that lost itself in the
mountains before us. We were early on board the steamboat next morning,
with a cloudless sky above us and a snow-crested Alp beckoning on from
the end of the lake. The water was of the most beautiful green hue, the
morning light colored the peaks around with purple, and a misty veil
rolled up the rocks of the Traunstein. We stood on the prow and enjoyed
to the fullest extent the enchanting scenery. The white houses of
Gmunden sank down to the water's edge like a flock of ducks; halfway we
passed castle Ort, on a rock in the lake, whose summit is covered with
trees.

As we neared the other extremity, the mountains became steeper and
loftier; there was no path along their wild sides, nor even a fisher's
hut nestled at their feet, and the snow filled the ravines more than
half-way from the summit. An hour and a quarter brought us to Ebensee,
at the head of the lake, where we landed and plodded on towards Ischl,
following the Traun up a narrow valley, whose mountain walls shut out
more than half the sky. They are covered with forests, and the country
is inhabited entirely by the woodmen who fell the mountain pines and
float the timber rafts down to the Danube. The steeps are marked with
white lines, where the trees have been rolled, or rather _thrown_ from
the summit. Often they descend several miles over rooks and precipices,
where the least deviation from the track would dash them in a thousand
pieces. This generally takes place in the winter when the sides are
covered with snow and ice. It must be a dangerous business, for there
are many crosses by the way-side where the pictures represent persons
accidentally killed by the trees; an additional painting represents
them as burning in the flames of purgatory, and the pious traveler is
requested to pray an Ave or a Paternoster for the repose of their souls.

On we went, up the valley of the Traun, between mountains five and six
thousand feet high, through scenes constantly changing and constantly
grand, for three or four hours. Finally the hills opened, disclosing a
little triangular valley, whose base was formed by a mighty mountain
covered with clouds. Through the two side angles came th