The pass of Arlberg is even still so bleak and bitter that few
care to climb there; the mountains around are drear and barren,
and snow lies till midsummer, and even longer sometimes. "But in
the early ages," said the priest (and this is quite a true tale
that the children heard with open eyes, and mouths only not open
because they were full of crabs and chestnuts), "in the early
ages," said the priest to them, "the Arlberg was far more dreary
than it is now. There was only a mule track over it, and no refuge
for man or beast; so that wanderers and peddlers, and those whose
need for work or desire for battle brought them over that
frightful pass, perished in great numbers, and were eaten by the
bears and the wolves. The little shepherd-boy Findelkind--who was
a little boy five hundred years ago, remember," the priest
repeated--"was sorely disturbed and distressed to see these poor
dead souls in the snow winter after winter, and seeing the
blanched bones lie on the bare earth, unburied, when summer melted
the snow. It made him unhappy, very unhappy; and what could he do,
he a little boy keeping sheep? He had as his wages two florins a
year; that was all; but his heart rose high, and he had faith in
God. Little as he was, he said to himself, he would try and do
something, so that year after year those poor lost travelers and
beasts should not perish so.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143