[Illustration:  COWS COMING DOWN THE HILLSIDE BY A MOUNTAIN STREAM.]

And the butcher, who had grown quite pathetic over the gentians, rose to return to his occupation.  It was curious to observe the honorable position which he held with landlord, landlady and Moidel.  What a surgeon or soldier would be in a higher class, that the butcher was to them.  In this case, too, we joined in respect—­a feeling we might entertain for many more of his trade, perhaps, had we the opportunity of judging.  But we must onward.

Ere long a young woman wearing a pointed black felt hat, ornamented with yellow everlastings, overtook us and joined company with Moidel, giving us, however, equally the benefit of her conversation, whilst she insisted upon carrying a bag.  She lived in Rein, she told us, and had now to consult the doctor in Taufers a second time about perpetual stitching pains in her throat.  The doctor said it was quinsy, and arose from cold.  Perhaps, she said, if she could bring herself to smoke a meerschaum, like other women in Rein, she might keep the mischief out; but it struck her as a disgrace to a female, and it made a great hole in the pocket.  Those who were born in such a village as Rein were in an evil plight.  The cottages were badly built, the kitchens reeked with smoke, and were so bitterly cold in winter, though the fowls had to roost there, that water froze in them.  In fact, no one could stay in the kitchen in winter.  Then all the family must crowd into the stube, living and sleeping there.  When Nanni Muckhaus had the typhus she and her children and grandchildren must lie down together; and then all the neighbors had to visit her, unless they chose to pass as brutes; and so that was how the typhus spread.  Fortunately, her husband and she were alone:  they had no burdens.  Still, life was hard—­a vale of tears or a vale of snow.  If the gentry could see the Reinthal in the winter, choked up with avalanches, they would say so.  Her man had, however, enough to keep them.  He had a license for the shooting of gemsen and other game, which he might use from holy Jakobi’s Day to Candlemas.  He had this year killed only five gemsen so far.  The Post at Taufers was greedy for gemsen now, and bought up every ounce of the flesh at nineteen kreuzers the pound—­bought snow-hens, too, at forty kreuzers each, and would never let her husband’s gun be idle.  When Candlemas came, and he could no longer shoot, then he worked in their fields; for we might not think it, but he, being a thrifty soul, had saved fifty gulden and bought some land.  But oh the labors, the toils to which a Reinthaler was subjected!  If his land lay on the mountain-side, he and his woman must slave and toil like beasts of burden, for what would be the help of horse or cow for riding, driving or ploughing on such steep, upright land?  “The holy watch-angels help us!” she said.  “Look up there and you will see, ladies, the truth of what I tell you.”