We had already discussed two dishes of hot pancakes—­really worthy of commendation—­enjoyed an hour’s rest, taken coffee, and were rising to depart, when the landlady appeared with a hop, skip and jump.  She was a lively, voluble little woman, who, though she had attired herself for us in two enormous cloth petticoats, a stuff bodice and yards of Bohemian lace in frills and ruffles, by way of displaying the wealth of her wardrobe, bobbed and curtseyed as if set on wires.  Great was the difficulty, between the amusing, friendly wife and the husband proud of her and his inn, either to pay our bill or get away.  They declared there was no hurry about the reckoning, and pressed us still to stay.  Seeing our resolution, the wirth with a sigh produced a brown painted board from under his arm, a piece of chalk from his pocket, made the bill, gave us change out of a tea-cup, and amidst reiterated invitations to return if not satisfied with the barn, we tore ourselves away, their friendly good-byes and good wishes floating after us.

CHAPTER VIII.

We now left the Reinthal and turned into the side-valley of Bachernthal.  It was the 17th of August, but the little plots of corn still waved long and green, giving a feeling of early summer.  We were in a perfect paradise of an Alpine valley.  Before us the great near-lying mountains, the princely Hoch Gall and the Gross Lengstein Glacier, shone like molten silver against the intense blue sky, whilst the Schnebige Nock rose pure and isolated across the narrow valley, suggesting to one of the party the simile of the swan-breasted maiden of Northern mythology.

After passing several chalets we came to that of the Eder Olm.  It belonged to the Hofbauer, and was occupied by his paechter or bailiff the year round.  Here, too, was the barn which we were to use as our night-quarters during our stay.  It was a great wooden building, divided into three compartments, one being two-thirds filled with hay, on which we were intended to sleep.  It was true that Josef the paechter had succeeded by means of sweeping and a little arrangement in making the barn really attractive; but, alas! alas! we had hardly begun preparing our beds when the horrible discovery was made that under the surface the hay was soaking wet.  Josef could hardly be blamed for not telling us, as in the Tyrol the people regard lying on wet or dewy grass as a natural system of hydropathy.

We had not shawls and cloaks enough to construct beds upon the barn floor, and the paechter’s house, though substantial, was but a dark den, already stuffed full with wife and children.  Must we, then, really return to the inn at Rein with its ornamental snakes and lions?