THE ICE MAIDEN [11]
since he had visited the town when a little boy. It seemed to him as
if all the neatest and most curiously carved toy houses which his
grandfather once kept in the large cupboard at home, had been
brought out and placed in this spot, and that they had increased in
size since then, as the old chestnut trees had done. The houses were
called hotels; the woodwork on the windows and balconies was curiously
carved. The roofs were gayly painted, and before each house was a
flower garden, which separated it from the macadamized high-road.
These houses all stood on the same side of the road, so that the
fresh, green meadows, in which were cows grazing, with bells on
their necks, were not hidden. The sound of these bells is often
heard amidst Alpine scenery. These meadows were encircled by lofty
hills, which receded a little in the centre, so that the most
beautifully formed of Swiss mountains- the snow-crowned Jungfrau-
could be distinctly seen glittering in the distance. A number of
elegantly dressed gentlemen and ladies from foreign lands, and
crowds of country people from the neighboring cantons, were
assembled in the town. Each marksman wore the number of hits he had
made twisted in a garland round his hat. Here were music and singing
of all descriptions: hand-organs, trumpets, shouting, and noise. The
houses and bridges were adorned with verses and inscriptions. Flags
and banners were waving. Shot after shot was fired, which was the best
music to Rudy's ears. And amidst all this excitement he quite forgot
Babette, on whose account only he had come. The shooters were
thronging round the target, and Rudy was soon amongst them. But when
he took his turn to fire, he proved himself the best shot, for he
always struck the bull's-eye.
"Who may that young stranger be?" was the inquiry on all sides.
"He speaks French as it is spoken in the Swiss cantons."
"And makes himself understood very well when he speaks German,"
said some.
"He lived here, when a child, with his grandfather, in a house
on the road to Grindelwald," remarked one of the sportsmen.
And full of life was this young stranger; his eyes sparkled, his
glance was steady, and his arm sure, therefore he always hit the mark.
Good fortune gives courage, and Rudy was always courageous. He soon
had a circle of friends gathered round him. Every one noticed him, and
did him homage. Babette had quite vanished from his thoughts, when
he was struck on the shoulder by a heavy hand, and a deep voice said
to him in French, "You are from the canton Valais."
Rudy turned round, and beheld a man with a ruddy, pleasant face,
and a stout figure. It was the rich miller from Bex. His broad, portly
person, hid the slender, lovely Babette; but she came forward and
glanced at him with her bright, dark eyes. The rich miller was very
much flattered at the thought that the young man, who was acknowledged
to be the best shot, and was so praised by every one, should be from
his own canton. Now was Rudy really fortunate: he had travelled all
this way to this place, and those he had forgotten were now come to
seek him. When country people go far from home, they often meet with
those they know, and improve their acquaintance. Rudy, by his
shooting, had gained the first place in the shooting-match, just as
the miller at home at Bex stood first, because of his money and his
mill. So the two men shook hands, which they had never done before.
Babette, too, held out her hand to Rudy frankly, and he pressed it
in his, and looked at her so earnestly, that she blushed deeply. The
miller talked of the long journey they had travelled, and of the
many towns they had seen. It was his opinion that he had really made
as great a journey as if he had travelled in a steamship, a railway
carriage, or a post-chaise.
"I came by a much shorter way," said Rudy; "I came over the
mountains. There is no road so high that a man may not venture upon
it."
"Ah, yes; and break your neck,"