Having passed the night in the modest little inn at Rattenberg, Hansel and I set off next morning long before sunrise on our eight hours’ tramp to the wood-drift by a path which was in most places of just sufficient breadth to allow of one person passing at a time.  Few of my fellow-travelers of the day before would have recognized me in the costume I had donned for the occasion—­an old and much-patched coat, short leathern trousers, as worn and torn as the poorest woodcutter’s, and a ten-seasoned hat which had been originally green, then brown, and had now become gray.  My face and knees were still bronzed from the exposure attendant on a long course of Alpine climbing the year before.

[Illustration:  Interior of Tomerl’s cottage.]

The keeper of the wood-drift was an old acquaintance of mine, whose qualities as a keen sportsman had shone forth when four or five years previously I had quartered myself for a month in his secluded neighborhood, spending the day, and frequently also the night, on the peaks and passes surrounding his cottage.  To the buxom Moidel, his pretty young wife, I was also no stranger, and her smile and blush assured me that she still remembered the time when, reigning supreme over her father’s cattle on a neighboring alp, she had administered to the wants of the young sportsman seeking a night’s lodging in the lonesome chalet.  Many a merry evening had I spent in the low, oak-paneled “general room” of Tomerl’s cottage when he was still a gay young bachelor, and no change had since been made in the aspect of the apartment.  In one corner stood the huge pile of pottery used for heating the room, and round it were still fixed the rows of wooden laths by means of which I had so frequently dried my soaking apparel.  Running the whole length of the room was a broad bench, in front of which were placed two strong tables; and at one of these were seated, at our entrance, two woodcutters, who had heard of the intended expedition and come to offer their help.  They informed us that four more men engaged in wood-felling in a forest an hour or so distant would also be delighted to join us, as they did at the close of their day’s work.

The evening was spent in discussing the details of the approaching exploit and getting our various arrangements and implements in order.  At nine o’clock, leaving Tomerl and his wife their accustomed bed on the top of the stove, the rest of us retired to our common bed-room, the hayloft.  We were up again by three, and an hour later were all ready to start.  Tomerl led the way, but stopped ere we lost sight of the cottage to shout a last “jodler” to his wife, who returned the greeting with a clear, bell-like voice, though her heart was doubtless beating fast under her smartly-laced bodice.