Oh, what a number of things Rudy had to carry over the mountains, when
he set out to return home! He had three silver cups, two handsome pistols,
and a silver coffee-pot. This latter would be useful when he began
housekeeping. But all these were not the heaviest weight he had to bear;
something mightier and more important he carried with him in his heart,
over the high mountains, as he journeyed homeward.
The weather was dismally dark, and inclined to rain; the clouds hung low,
like a mourning veil on the tops of the mountains, and shrouded their
glittering peaks. In the woods could be heard the sound of the axe and the
heavy fall of the trunks of the trees, as they rolled down the slopes of the
mountains. When seen from the heights, the trunks of these trees looked
like slender stems; but on a nearer inspection they were found to be large
and strong enough for the masts of a ship. The river murmured
monotonously, the wind whistled, and the clouds sailed along hurriedly.
Suddenly there appeared, close by Rudy’s side, a young maiden; he had
not noticed her till she came quite near to him. She was also going to ascend
the mountain. The maiden’s eyes shone with an unearthly power, which
obliged you to look into them; they were strange eyes,-clear, deep, and
unfathomable.
“Hast thou a lover?” asked Rudy; all his thoughts were naturally on love
just then.
“I have none,” answered the maiden, with a laugh; it was as if she had not
spoken the truth.
“Do not let us go such a long way round,” said she. “We must keep to the
left; it is much shorter.”
“Ah, yes,” he replied; “and fall into some crevasse. Do you pretend to be
a guide, and not know the road better than that?”
“I know every step of the way,” said she; “and my thoughts are collected,
while yours are down in the valley yonder. We should think of the Ice
Maiden while we are up here; men say she is not kind to their race.”
