bridge across the Danube, and
disappearing within the ancient gates of the city. The white-cloaked
cuirassiers of Austria, gigantic forms, seeming even greater from
the massive folds of their white drapery; the dark Bohemians on their
coal-black horses; the Uhlans with their banners floating from their
tall lances; the prancing Hungarians mounted on their springing white
steeds of Arab blood; the gay scarlet of their chakos, the clink of
their dolmans, all glitter-* ing with gold, eclipsing all around them.
Then came the Jagers of the Tyrol, a countless host, marching like one
man, their dark plumes waving like a vast forest for miles in distance.
These followed again by the long train of guns and ammunition carts.

Fitful glances of distant lands, of which he had once read, passed
before him: the wide-spreading plains of the Lower Danube--the narrow
passes of the Styrian Alps--the bleak, vast tracts of sterile country
on the Turkish frontier, with here and there a low mud-walled village,
surmounted by a minaretted tower;--all, however, were peopled with
soldiers, marching or bivouacking, striking their tents at day-break,
or sitting around their camp-fires by night. The hoarse challenge of the
sentries, the mellow call of the bugle, the quivering tramp of a mounted
patrol, were all vividly presented to his sleeping senses. From these
thoughts of far-away scenes, he was suddenly recalled to home, and his
own Tyrol land. He thought he stood upon the rocky cliff and looked down
into the valley which he had left so tranquil at nightfall, but which
now presented an aspect of commotion and trouble. The inhabitants of
the little village at the head of the Kaunser-Thal were all preparing
to quit their homes and fly up the valley; carts covered with their
furniture and effects crowded the little street; pack-horses and mules
laden with every thing portable; while in the eager and affrighted
gestures of the peasants it was easy to see that some calamity impended.
Now and then some horseman would ride in amongst them, and by his manner
it was plain the tidings he brought were full of disaster. Hans looked
towards the bridge: and there, to his astonishment, he saw the very same
soldiers the old man had manoeuvred with. They had, seemingly, come off
a long march, and with their knapsacks unstrung, and their arms piled,
were regaling themselves with wine from the guard-house.

Hans' first thought was to hasten back and tell his moth