In the Quarter

``Wie's gnädige Fraulein hat G'müth!'' he said to Rex.

``What's that?'' asked the colonel.

``He says,'' translated Rex freely, ``What a lot of every delightful quality Ruth possesses!''

But Ruth heard, and turned about and was very severe with him. ``Such shirking! Translate me Gemüth at once, sir, if you please!''

``Old Wiseboy at Yarvard confessed he couldn't, short of a treatise, and who am I to tackle what beats Wiseboy?''

``Can you, Daisy?'' asked her father.

``Not in the least, but that's no reason for letting Rex off.'' Her voice took on a little of the pretty bantering tone she used to her parents. She was beginning to feel such a happy confidence in Rex's presence.

They were in the forest now, moving lightly over the wet, springy leaves, probing cautiously for dangerous, loose boulders and treacherous slides. When they emerged, it was upon a narrow plateau; the rugged limestone rocks rose on one side, the precipice plunged down on the other. Against the rocks lay patches of snow, grimy with dirt and pebbles; from a cleft the long greenish white threads of ``Peter's beard'' waved at them; in a hollow bloomed a thicket of pink Alpen-rosen.

They had just reached a clump of low firs, around the corner of a huge rock, when a rush of loose stones and a dull sound of galloping made them stop. Sepp dropped on his face; the others followed his example. The hound whined and pulled at the leash.

On the opposite slope some twenty Hirsch-cows, with their fawns, were galloping down into the valley, carrying with them a torrent of earth and gravel. Presently they slackened and stopped, huddling all together into a thicket. The Jaeger lifted his head and whispered ``Stück''; that being the complimentary name by which one designates female deer in German.

``All?'' said Rex, under his breath. At the same moment Ruth touched his shoulder.

On the crest of the second ridge, only a hundred yards distant, stood a stag, towering in black outline, the sun just coming up behind him. Then two other pairs of antlers rose from behind the ridge, two more stags lifted their heads and shoulders and all three stood silhouetted against the sky. They tossed and stamped and stared straight at the spot where their enemies lay hidden.

A moment, and the old stag disappeared; the others followed him.

``If they come again, shoot,'' said Sepp.

Rex passed his rifle to Ruth. They waited a few minutes; then the colonel jumped up.

``I thought we were after chamois!'' he grumbled.

``So we are,'' said Rex, getting on his feet.

A shot rang out, followed by another. They turned, sharply. Ruth, looking half frightened, was lowering the smoking rifle from her shoulder. Across the ravine a large stag was swaying on the edge; then he fell and rolled to the bottom. The hound, loosed, was off like an arrow, scrambling and tumbling down the side. The four hunters followed, somehow. Sepp got down first and sent back a wild Jodel. The stag lay there, dead, and his splendid antlers bore eight prongs.

When Ruth came up she had her hand on her father's arm. She stood and leaned on him, looking down at the stag. Pity mingled with a wild intoxicating sense of achievement confused her. A rich color flushed her cheek, but the curve of her lips was almost grave.

Sepp solemnly drew forth his flask of Schnapps and, taking off his hat to her, drank ``Waidmann's Heil!'' – a toast only drunk by hunters to hunters.

Gethryn shook hands with her twenty times and praised her until she could bear no more.

She took her hand from her father's arm and drew herself up, determined to preserve her composure. The wind blew the little bright rings of hair across her crimson cheek and wrapped her kilts about her slender figure as she stood, her rifle poised across her shoulder, one hand on the stock and one clasped below the muzzle.

``Are you laughing at me, Rex?''

``You know I am not!''

Never had she been so happy in her whole life.

The game drawn and hung, to be fetched later, they resumed their climb and hastened upward toward the peak.

Ruth led. She hardly felt the ground beneath her, but sprang from rock to moss and from boulder to boulder, till a gasp from Gethryn made her stop and turn about.

``Good Heavens, Ruth! what a climber you are!''

And now the colonel sat down on the nearest stone and flatly refused to stir.

``Oh! is it the hip, Father?'' cried Ruth, hurrying back and kneeling beside him.

``No, of course it isn't! It's indignation!'' said her father, calmly regarding her anxious face. ``If you can't go up mountains like a human girl, you're not going up any more mountains with me.''

``Oh! I'll go like a human snail if you want, dear! I've been too selfish! It's a shame to tire you so!''

``Indeed, it is a perfect shame!'' cried the colonel.

Ruth had to laugh. ``As I remarked to Rex, early this morning,'' her father continued, adjusting his eyeglass, ``hang the Gomps!'' Rex discreetly offered no comment. ``Moreover,'' the colonel went on, bringing all the severity his eyeglass permitted to bear on them both, ``I decline to go walking any longer with a pair of lunatics. I shall confide you both to Sepp and will wait for you at the upper Shelter.''

``But it's only indignation; it isn't the hip, Father?'' said Ruth, still hanging about him, but trying to laugh, since he would have her laugh.

He saw her trouble, and changing his tone said seriously, ``My little girl, I'm only tired of this scramble, that's all.''

She had to be contented with this, and they separated, her father taking a path which led to the right, up a steep but well cleared ascent to a plateau, from which they could see the gable of a roof rising, and beyond that the tip-top rock with its white cross marking the highest point. The others passed to the left, around and among huge rocks, where all the hollows were full of grimy snow. The ground was destitute of trees and all shrubs taller than the hardy Alpen-rosen. Masses of rock lay piled about the limestone crags that formed the summit. The sun had not yet tipped their peak with purple and orange, but some of the others were lighting up. No insects darted about them; there was not a living thing among the near rocks except the bluish black salamanders, which lay here and there, cold and motionless.

They walked on in silence; the trail grew muddy, the ground was beaten and hatched up with small, sharp hoof prints. Sepp kneeled down and examined them.

``Hirsch, Reh, and fawn, and ja! ja! Sehen Sie? Gams!''

After this they went on cautiously. All at once a peculiar shrill hiss, half whistle, half cry, sounded very near.

A chamois, followed by two kids, flashed across a heap of rocks above their heads and disappeared. The Jaeger muttered something, deep in his beard.

``You wouldn't have shot her?'' said Ruth, timidly.

``No, but she will clear this place of chamois. It's useless to stay here now.''

It was an hour's hard pull to the next peak. When at last they lay sheltered under a ledge, grimy snow all about them, the Jaeger handed his glass to Ruth.

``Hirsch on the Kaiser Alm, three Reh by Nani's Hütterl, and one in the ravine,'' he said, looking at Gethryn, who was searching eagerly with his own glass. Ruth balanced the one she held against her alpenstock.

``Yes, I see them all – and – why, there's a chamois!''

Sepp seized the glass which she held toward him.

``The gracious Fraülein has a hunter's eyesight; a chamois is feeding just above the Hirsch.''

``We are right for the wind, but is this the best place?'' said Rex.

``We must make the best of it,'' said Sepp.