p, goats, and
pigs; and about the butter and cheese that had been made. And then
Kjersti praised her two servants for their faithfulness and industry,
and the trio rejoiced together over the success of the summer.

That evening when Lisbeth Longfrock again lay stretched out on her
little bed in her room under the hall stairs and thought back over the
summer and about the mountain, it seemed to her that she had had a
glorious time, as delightful as could be thought of; but, all the same,
it was pleasant to come home again, too,--especially when one was
welcomed by such an unusually fine woman as Kjersti Hoel.

* * * * *

Autumn was passing away. The leaves had fallen and the trees spread out
naked branches into the cold air. In the fields where grain had grown
stood only the poles, now bare and slanting, on which the crops had
been stacked. The verdure of the meadows was changed to yellowish
brown.

There was no more food for the animals out of doors, so slaughtering
day had come. That is the end of the season for the young herder, for
on that day he gives up his responsibility. Thenceforward he is no
longer a person with a special duty; he must be at every one's beck and
call. And when winter comes with its long evenings, when the wood fire
gleams out over the huge kitchen from the great open fireplace, while
wool is being carded and the spinning wheel whirs, and the farm hands
make brooms out of twigs and whittle thole pins and ax handles, then
must the herder sit by the pile of twigs and logs at the side of the
fireplace and feed the fire so that the rest can see to work while he
studies his lessons.

By the pile of wood in Kjersti Hoel's big kitchen Lisbeth Longfrock had
her place on the long winter evenings. She studied and listened, and
heard so many curious things talked about that it seemed as if the
evenings were too short and the days too few, in spite of the long,
dark Norwegian winter. Before she knew it spring had come again; and
when she looked down at her long frock she found that the hem reached
no farther than the tops of her ankles.

CHAPTER VIII

ON GLORY PEAK

It was again high summer, and the sun shone bright on all the mountain
tops when, one morning, an ear-splitting call played on three goat
horns rang suddenly out from the inclosure belonging to Hoel saeter. One
call was thin and fine, the other two were heavier.

That triple signal mea