eberry patch, she flung herself down on the heather and allowed him
to pick berries. She heard cow-bells and sheep-bells tinkling round
about her, and concluded that she could not be far from the saeters,
or mountain dairies. That was fortunate, indeed, for she would not have
liked to sleep in the woods with wolves and bears prowling about her.

She was just making an effort to rise from the stone upon which she
was sitting, when the big, good-natured face of a cow broke through the
leaves and stared at her. There was again help in need. She approached
the cow, patted it, and calling little Hans, bade him sit down in the
heather and open his mouth. He obeyed rather wonderingly, but perceived
his mother's intent when she knelt at his side and began to milk
into his mouth. It seemed to him that he had never tasted anything so
delicious as this fresh rich milk, fragrant with the odor of the woods
and the succulent mountain grass. When his hunger was satisfied, he fell
again to picking berries, while Inga refreshed herself with milk in the
same simple fashion. After having rested a full hour, she felt strong
enough to continue her journey; and hearing the loor, or Alpine horn,
re-echoing among the mountains, she determined to follow the sound.
It was singular what luck attended her in the midst of her misfortune.
Perhaps it was, after all, no idle tale that little Hans was a child of
luck; and she had done the lumbermen injustice in deriding their faith
in him. Perhaps there was some guiding Providence in all that had
happened, destined in the end to lead little Hans to fortune and glory.
Much encouraged by this thought, she stooped over him and kissed him;
then took his hand and trudged along over logs and stones, through
juniper and bramble bushes.

"Mamma," said little Hans, "where are you going?"

"I am going to the saeter," she answered; "where you have wanted so
often to go."

"Then why don't you follow the cows? They are going there too."

Surely that child had a marvellous mind! She smiled down upon him and
nodded. By following the cows they arrived in twenty minutes at a neat
little log cabin, from which the smoke curled up gayly into the clear
air.

The dairy-maids who spent the summer there tending the cattle both fell
victims to the charms of little Hans, and offered him and his mother
their simple hospitality. They told of the lumbermen who had passed
the saeter huts, and inquired for her; but otherwise t