This valley continues to mount to yet more sterile
regions, until, reaching the great watershed of the Toblacher Plain,
which sends part of its streams to the Adriatic, the others to the more
distant Black Sea, it gradually dips down again to the fruitful
wine-regions of Lienz.

[Illustration: BRUNECK.]

We have now, however, to do with Bruneck, where our venerable 1990 had
safely deposited us at the modern inn, the Post. We might almost style
it the fashionable inn, for it was kept by a gentleman of noble birth
and the representative of the province, who, having a large family of
growing children, had wisely let his gentility take care of itself and
permitted his guests to be entertained at their own rather than at his
expense. As the noble landlady was suffering from headache, the dapper
waitress took charge of us, provided us with rooms, and then installed
us at the early _table-d'hote_, where a number of the officers of the
garrison, with some other regular diners, whom we learnt to recognize in
time as the town bailiff, the apothecary and the advocate, were
despatching, in the midst of great clatter and bustle, the inevitable
_kalbsfleisch_ and _mehlspeis_.

The lady who had recommended us to go to the Pusterthal had likewise
assured us that the Post at Bruneck would satisfy all our requirements.
In this she was mistaken. It is true that tastes differ, especially
amongst tourists, who may be divided into two classes--those who merely
care for the country, let them disguise it as they will, when they can
endue it with the features of their town-life; and those who love the
country for the sake of Nature, and thus endeavor to carry trails of
freshness back with them to town. Now, it was all artificial dust and
din that we desired to get rid of. We had traveled in search of verdant
meadows, brawling streams and sweet-scented woods. We could not find
solace and relaxation in sitting at the windows of our respectable inn
to watch every passer-by on the dusty boulevard below, in spending half
the day indoors, let it be ever so comfortably, or in merely turning out
in the evening to shop in the puny town, whilst we bemoaned the want of
a circulating library and a brass band. It was even more intolerable, as
the Post had been built perversely with its back to the fine view of the
glaciers. Moreover, the whole establishment was in the hands of
bricklayers, painters and glaziers, who were enlarging and repairing it
for th