t
not so far if one passes over the rocks and that is the road for a
chamois hunter! I went this road formerly, for there is my home, where
I lived with my grandfather when I was a little child, and they have
a shooting festival in Interlaken! I will be the _first_ one there,
and that will I be with Babette also, as soon as I have made her
acquaintance!"

With his light knapsack containing his Sunday clothes, with his gun
and his huntsman's pouch, Rudy ascended the mountain. The short road,
was a pretty long one, but the shooting-match had but commenced to-day
and was to last more than a week; the miller and Babette were to
remain the whole time, with their relations in Interlaken. Rudy
crossed the Gemmi, for he wished to go to Grindelwald.

He stepped forwards merry and well, out into the fresh, light mountain
air. The valley sank beneath him, the horizon widened; here and there
a snow-peak, and soon appeared the whole shining white alpine chain.
Rudy knew every snow mountain, onward he strode towards the
Schreckhorn, that elevates its white powdered snow-finger high in the
air.

At last he crossed the ridge of the mountain and the pasture-grounds
and reached the valley of his home; the air was light and his spirits
gay, mountain and valley stood resplendent with verdure and flowers.
His heart was filled with youthful thoughts;--that one can never grow
old, never die; but live, rule and enjoy;--free as a bird, light as a
bird was he. The swallows flew by and sang as in his childhood: "We
and you, and You and we!" All was happiness.

Below lay the velvet-green meadow, with its brown wooden houses, the
Luetschine hummed and roared. He saw the glacier with its green glass
edges and its black crevices in the deep snow, and the under and
upper glacier. The sound of the church-bells was carried over to him,
as if they chimed a welcome home; his heart beat loudly and expanded,
so, that for a moment, Babette vanished from it; his heart widened, it
was so full of recollections. He retraced his steps, over the path,
where he used to stand when a little boy, with the other children, on
the edge of the ditch, and where he sold carved wooden houses. Yonder,
under the fir-trees was his grandfather's house,--strangers dwelled
there. Children came running up the path, wishing to sell; one of them
held an alpine rose towards him. Rudy took it for a good omen and
thought of Babette. Quickly he crossed the bridge, where the two
Lue