had so far obtained possession of his mind, that he
became almost unconscious of every other; from dwelling on them so much,
and revolving them so frequently and in so many different shapes and
forms, he grew to think that he had no other object and aim than to
reach Inspruck and solve these two doubts. Hunger, cold, and fatigue,
every privation of a long and weary journey, was unregarded by him; and
although it was now late in the autumn, and snow was beginning to fall
on the mountain passes, Fritz, poorly clad, and scarcely fed, trudged
on, day after day, his own heart supplying the courage which his weak
frame denied.

As winter drew near the days grew shorter; and the atmosphere, loaded
with snow ready to drop, darkened the earth, and made night come on, as
it seemed, many hours before sunset. This left very little time to Fritz
for his long journeys, which, just at this very period, unfortunately,
were longer than ever. The way, too, had become far more dreary and
deserted, not only because it led through a little-travelled district,
but that the snow being too deep for wheeled carriages, and not hard
enough for sledges, the travellers were fain to wait till either rain or
frost should come on, to make the road practicable. Hence it happened,
that not unfrequently, now, Fritz journeyed the live-long day, from
dawn to dark, and scarcely met a single traveller, Sometimes, too, not
a hut would be seen in a whole day's march, and he would never taste a
morsel of food till he reached his halting-place for the night.

All this was bad enough, but it was not the only difficulty; the worst
of all was, how to find out the way in the mountain passes, where the
snow lay so deep, that the balustrades or parapets that flanked the
road, and often guarded it from a precipice, were now covered, and
no wheel-track could be seen to guide the traveller. Fritz, when he
journeyed this road before, remembered the awe and terror with which he
used to peep over the little stone railing, and look down hundreds of
feet into the dark valley beneath, where a great river was diminished
to the size of a mere brawling rivulet; and now, where was that
parapet?--on which side of him did it lie? A deep gorge was near--that
he well knew; the unfrozen torrent beneath roared like thunder, but a
waving surface of untrodden snow stretched away on either side of him,
without foot-track or aught to mark the way.

For a long time did the poor child stand