Herr Dahn nodded approvingly, and told them to let him know as soon as a substitute was found.  How thankful they were that evening as they talked over the happy termination of their troubles, and still more so when a neighbor came in to tell them that Bridgetta and some others of the village had voted against Stephan continuing his post as herd, alleging that they feared to trust him any longer with their goats.  This was, of course, very unpleasant news, for it was a sort of disgrace to be thus displaced, however undeserved.  It also explained the cause of Bridgetta’s extreme coolness and indifference as to how they had obtained the money.  No wonder she was unfriendly after her action, which, but for the fresh turn affairs had taken, would have seriously injured them.

However, Stephan was now free to begin his new work the next day, when all arrangements were made, and he was introduced as an apprentice to his new master, Heinrich Brand.

PART II.

Stephan had been with the violin-maker about six weeks, when one day the little Gretchen, his master’s daughter, rushed in to tell them the cows were coming down from the Alp.

It is the custom in the Bavarian Tyrol to send the cows to small pastures high up among the mountains where the grass is green and plentiful, being watered by the dews and mists, and less exposed to the scorching sun.  Here the cows remain all the summer under the care of two or three men, called “senner,” or women, called “sennerinnen,” who are always busily engaged making butter and cheese, and rarely come down to the valley, even for a day, till the season is over, when, collecting their tubs, milk-pans, and other dairy utensils, they descend the mountain with great rejoicings and consider the day a festival.

This return is an event of importance in every village.  Brand, like his neighbors, hastened out with his little daughter, and told Stephan to follow them.  The gay procession wound slowly along the main road, accompanied by a band of music playing a cheerful Tyrolese air.  The cows came trooping along, decorated with garlands of wild flowers, preceded by peasants in their gayest costumes, carrying blue and white flags.  The “sennerinnen” wore their brightest neckerchiefs and gowns, and seemed quite rejoiced to be down among their friends again.

Stephan joined his mother in the crowd, and they were in the full enjoyment of the scene when he suddenly exclaimed:  “See, mother, there’s the lost goat!” and sure enough there it was, limping along by the side of a “sennerin.”  One leg was evidently broken or severely injured, but otherwise the little animal looked well and fat.

Old Bridgetta had likewise seen it, and the three hastened to question the “sennerin,” who seemed very glad to find the owner, and told them it had been brought to the Alp by a peasant, who gave her a florin to take care of it and bring it down to the village as soon as she could.  He did not tell her where he had found it, or indeed any particulars, so she supposed the poor little thing had fallen over some precipice and broken its leg, which was, however, nearly well.