people hiking"TRAMP THUS, IN VAGABOND FASHION, OVER THE MOUNTAINS!"
"TRAMP THUS, IN VAGABOND FASHION, OVER THE MOUNTAINS!"
As the sun was just beginning to peep above the mountaintop, the party of three set off, with many admonitions from Frau Hofer to her child, and many also from Frau Müller thatFerdinand should not allow his cousin to be too adventuresome. But to this Leopold smiled.
"I am used to the mountains, auntie," he said. "Ferdinand will tire long before I do, you'll see."
How glorious it was to tramp thus, in vagabond fashion, over the mountains! They stopped wherever night overtook them, passed through Brixen, the wine center of much importance in Tyrol, and on through narrow defiles through which there seemed no exit. A bracing walk of six miles from Brixen brought them to Klausen, or The Pass, so completely hidden among mountains there was but room for one long, narrow street.
"Well, I had no idea Klausen was quite so narrow," Herr Müller remarked. "I can well believe the tale of the barber, now."
"What barber, uncle?" asked Leopold.
"The barber of Klausen. You've never heard it? Well, there once lived a barber inthis town who was old and full of rheumatism; he had a client whom he must shave every morning; but the poor barber found it very difficult to descend three flights of steps from his dwelling and ascend three more on the opposite side of the street, in order to shave his customer. He could not afford to lose this fee, yet it was exceedingly painful for him to attempt the climb.
"One morning he opened his window and called to his neighbor. Upon hearing the barber's voice, the man in the opposite house opened his window and asked what was wanted.
"'Allow me,' said the ingenious barber. 'I am unable to descend the stairs this morning; my rheumatism is getting the better of me. But, in order that you may not lose your shave, if you will lean a little way out of your window, I shall be able to accomplish the duty quite as well as though you were sitting in your chair in your room.'
"For a moment the man hesitated; but, as the village was small, and there was but one barber, it was either a question of going unshaved, or of following the fellow's advice. Accordingly, he consented; he stretched his neck far out of the window, the barber placed the towel beneath his chin, and, with all the dexterity in his power, he proceeded to shave his client; and thenceforth the barber performed this operation in a similar manner, quite to the satisfaction of them both."
They passed on through the village of Waidbruck, the very center of romanticism; for here, right at the mouth of the Grodener-thal, rises the fascinating Castle of Trostburg, the home of the Counts of Wolkenstein; and here was born Count Oswald, the last of all the long line of Minnesingers or troubadours, who found employment and enjoyment in wandering from castle to castle, their harps or zithers under their arms, singing love-songs or reciting war-storiesthat stirred the young blood to action.
They climbed to the magnificent Castle of Hauerstein, so hidden among the mountain-peaks and dense woods that one might imagine it to be the palace of the Sleeping Beauty; and then they diverged a few miles up the ravine in order to visit Santa Claus' shops, for such might be called the village of St. Ulrich with its countless numbers of toy shops. In every cottage men, women and young children busy themselves from morning until night, from one year's end to the other, in making toys; carved animals for Noah's Arks, dolls and wagons, to supply the world's demand of the children. Here, too, the very language is different from any other spoken roundabout; for the inhabitants, primitive in language as in everything else, still cling to the tongue of the Romans, which is to-day known as the Ladin or Romansch tongue.
They passed the night at Botzen, and, as the sun sunk behind the lofty mountains just beyond, a gorgeous glow overspread their entire summit.
"Isn't it beautiful!" remarked the two lads almost at the same moment.
"And it looks just like a rose-garden, too," added Leopold.
"It is a rose-garden, child," answered Herr Müller. "It is called the Rosengarten or Gardl (Little Garden)."
"But is it possible, father," asked Ferdinand, "that roses will bloom on such lofty heights?"
"Well, this is the legend about it. Once upon a time, there lived an ugly dwarf who was king over all the underground sprites and elves in the mountains of Tyrol. He was in the habit of going forth from his palace, wrapped in a magic cloak which rendered him invisible. Now, it chanced that during one of these expeditions,Laurin went into the country of Styria, which lies right over there to the east. We shall pass that way on our return to Vienna. He saw a most beautiful maiden who was playing in a meadow with her attendants. Suddenly she disappeared from before the very eyes of her companions; they shouted, but no answer came back to them; in great dismay they fled back to the castle to report the news to the princess' brother Dietlieb.
"Dietlieb had heard of Laurin and his propensity for carrying off fair maidens; Dietlieb was a brave knight and had traveled far, so, as soon as he heard the news, he suspicioned at once that Laurin had done the deed. Immediately he set out for the city of Bern, where the king held his court, to demand that the dwarf be punished for his insolence. But the king was powerless against Laurin's magic; however, he warned Dietlieb not to attempt to approach too near the dwarf's domains, for itwas guarded by four magnificent pillars of shining gold, and a fence of silken thread stretched between.
"'Remember,' said the king, 'should you happen to break so much as one strand of Laurin's fence, he will demand the forfeit of a foot and a hand.'
"In hot rage Dietlieb left the king's palace; what mattered to him Laurin's magic powers, if only he could recover his dear sister, the Princess Kunhild?
"With a few faithful companions he set out over the mountains until he reached the Rose-garden before the dwarf's underground abode, the very sight of which so enraged the worthy knight that he tore away the silken threads and destroyed the four gorgeous pillars.
"Within his subterranean palace, Laurin heard the destruction without; he mounted his war-horse, and putting on his magic belt, which endowed him with supernatural strength, heappeared at the door of the cave covered with sparkling jewels from head to foot.
"'Who has dared to enter my domains?' he shouted. 'And to destroy my garden? Let him who has done the deed stand forth that I may exact the punishment!'
"'Be not so hasty, Sir Laurin,' replied one of the knights, 'we will gladly repay you three, four-fold, if you wish, what you demand. The season is early and your roses will bloom again.'
"'I care not for your gold,' replied the indignant king; 'I have gold and to spare. I demand satisfaction, and satisfaction I shall have.'
"So saying, he spurred on his horse. There was a hotly contested battle; in the end, he was overpowered by Dietlieb, who had torn from him his magic belt, and thus robbed him of his strength.
"'Come,' said Laurin, 'let us not harbor ill feelings against one another. Come into mypalace, Sir Knights, and drink to the health of the fair Kunhild.'
"He led them through the door of the cave, down several long corridors at the end of each of which was a stout door, one of bronze, another of steel and a third of gold, and entered the banquet hall, where the table was gorgeously decorated with gold and silver and most rare flowers.
"As the dinner drew to a close—at which Kunhild had presided, dazzling with jewels—the knights fell into a sound doze; when they awoke each was locked securely in a separate cell with no means of communicating one with the other. But, when all was still, Kunhild entered her brother's dungeon and released him by the aid of her magic arts, which she had learned while captive.
"'Take this ring,' she said, 'gather up your weapons and flee for your life.'
"'But will you go with me?' he said.
"'I will come later,' she replied. 'But make your escape now before Laurin discovers us.'
"Dietlieb did not require a second bidding. The magic of Laurin had penetrated through the stone walls of the cell, however, and he followed the knight to the outer earth and there they fought a terrible battle. When Laurin found himself yielding to the superior strength of the knight, he blew a shrill blast upon his golden horn, and five enormous giants appeared. Meanwhile Kunhild had not been idle; she had released the companions of her brother, who now rushed to the scene of the fray, and in spite of his magic arts, and his reinforcement of the five giants, Laurin was made prisoner and carried off into Styria. The garden was left uncared for, and little by little it died; but on just such evenings as this, one can see the gorgeous roses, which will bloom only as the sun descends."
"Do you think, father," said Ferdinand,"that there is really an underground palace in those mountains?"
photo of valleyTHE ROSENGARTEN.
THE ROSENGARTEN.
"Well, that's what they say; many have tried to find the entrance, but the key has been lost; some day, one may be fortunate enough to find it, and then great riches will be his. It is my private opinion that within those mountains lie metals unknown to exist, and when one has opened the door to them, he will discover great riches in them."
"I should like to gather justonerose, uncle," said Leopold. "I think mother would like to have one, for she has never seen the Rosengarten."
"You cannot do that, my boy, because they are not real roses; the rocks of the mountain are composed of magnesia and chalk, which take on these beautiful colors when the rays of the setting sun fall upon them; and it is only the sharp, jagged points of those rocks which simulate roses, that you see."
Another night would see them out of Tyrol, much to the regret of Ferdinand, for he had never imagined such an interesting land to exist.
"How did Tyrol come to belong to our country, father?" asked Ferdinand.
"Well, in the olden times," answered Herr Müller, "Tyrol was governed by counts who ruled like kings; but in 1363 a princess was the ruler; she was a woman with a very hasty temper and was nicknamed Pocket-mouthed Meg. Some say she received this nickname because her mouth was so extraordinarily large; but others tell a tale of her Bavarian cousin, who lived in the adjoining territory, who struck her on the mouth during a quarrel. It certainly was not a very gentlemanly thing for the Bavarian cousin to do, but children were not brought up so carefully as they are to-day, and you must not think too harshly of this little Bavarian, which sounds quite like barbarian. But Queen Margaret could never forgive nor forget thatblow; in after years, when her own son was dead, and her kingdom must be left to some one, she preferred to give it to her Habsburg cousins, who were Austrians, so that ever since, with the exception of a few years in which several nations struggled for possession of it, it has belonged to the Austrian Empire.
"You know Emperor Maximilian I, who was one of our greatest rulers, loved Tyrol best of all his provinces," continued Herr Müller.
"I don't blame him," replied Ferdinand, "I think he was quite right."
FromBotzen, the train took them through the Puster-thal, which is on the north boundary of Italy, and on to Villach in Carinthia, where they were to meet Herr Runkel. There were great demonstrations when he saw the two young lads.
"Have you never been to Dalmatia?" he asked them.
Both shook their heads negatively.
"What a splendid thing, then, that business called me to Zara," he replied, "for Dalmatia is one of the provinces of our empire which is different from any of the others. You see, in the first place, it is on the Adriatic Sea, and could one have vision that would carry that far, he might glance over into the opposite countryof Italy. But, as if to make up for that lack of supernatural power, Italy has brought her customs and manners into Dalmatia, so we shall really be seeing two countries at one time."
Through Carinthia the party made its way, over the Kara-Wanken Mountains into Istria and spent the night at Trieste. As neither of the boys had seen the sea before, it was a never-ending source of wonder and delight to them to wander about the wharves, to see the ships of many nations lying in the harbor, flying their flags of many colors, and to see the curious sights of a sea-town. There was nothing to remind them of Austria with its German customs, even the name of the city (Tergeste) being Roman, which was conquered by that nation, and colonized aboutB. C.41. There are no longer strassen (streets), but vias, and piazzas (squares) take the place of platze. As in most Italian cities, there were narrow, winding streets, some of which were nothingmore than mere flights of steps lined on each side, in place of a balustrade, with houses.
In the morning it had been arranged to make a hasty trip to Miramar, the charming residence of the Archduke Maximilian, the favorite brother of the emperor.
"Here it is," said Herr Müller, "that the ominous ravens warned the archduke of the fatality which should overtake him in accepting the throne of Mexico at the instance of Napoleon III of France. And the raven's warning came true, for the unfortunate young prince never returned."
"Tell us about the ravens, father," said Ferdinand, as they stood upon the terrace before the villa, overlooking the wonderful Adriatic.
"Well, you know the house of Habsburg occupies the Austrian throne to-day," began Herr Müller.
"Yawohl," replied the two simultaneously.
"Well, many hundreds of years ago, thefounder of the Habsburg dynasty, Count Rudolph, was born in a very ancient and formidable castle in the northern part of Switzerland, somewhere near Zurich. The castle was known throughout the country by the peculiar name of the Hawk's Castle or Habicht-burg, from a story concerning one of the first counts who lived there.
"This was Count Gontran, of Altenbourg. He was a brave and gallant knight and loved to spend his time among the mountains hunting, when he was not away to the war. As he was so fearless in this sport, pursuing his enemy to the remotest spots of their lairs, he gained the sobriquet of the 'Hawk Count' or Der Habicht Graf.
"One day he had climbed to the top of a most peculiarly shaped rock, which much resembled a fortress. In his eagerness to reach the summit he had lost sight of his companions; but in his joy at the marvelous panoramaspread beneath him, he quite forgot all about them, and gave himself up only to the spell of the wildness surrounding him.
"Suddenly the air grew thick with moving objects; the sun was hidden from sight, and then the count realized that numberless vultures, whose habitation he had invaded, had gathered about the rock in swarms, waiting for their time to come when they might claim him their victim. But Der Habicht Graf was no craven; he made no attempt to fight; well he knew they would not attack him until he had passed that stage when he would be able to defend himself.
"All at once, while he thus stood defying his antagonists, a shrill cawing was heard on all sides; in a few moments the air was filled with innumerable ravens who seemed to have appeared from out the very heavens, so silently and unexpectedly had they come. There was a sharp battle between the two swarms, thesmaller birds being able to drive off the larger on account of their greater numbers. And then, when all vestige of both feathered tribes had disappeared, Count Gontran was able to find his way down the almost inaccessible rock, where he joined his companions at its base, who had given him up for lost, as their shouts had failed to reach him, and no answering call came back to them.
"From that day Der Habicht Graf chose the raven for his pennon; he became their protector, feeding them in winter, until, as time went on, they became verily a pest.
"Der Habicht Graf died, and others came into possession of Der Habicht-burg. There was little sentiment in these descendants concerning the ravens, and when Count Rudolph succeeded to the estate in 1240, he had them all driven away or killed. Ever since that time, the birds have taken a peculiar delight in foretelling disaster to the house of Habsburg (asHabicht-burg has been corrupted into). And right here, in this garden," continued Herr Müller, "was where the ravens came and flew about the heads of the Archduke Maximilian and his young wife Carlota before they left on that fatal journey."
"What happened then, father?"
"Surely you must know. The Mexicans refused to accept a foreign ruler; he was sentenced to be shot, and although Carlota made the trip to France three times to beg Napoleon III to save her husband, the emperor was deaf to all her appeals."
"That was because Napoleon was not born a king, father," remarked Ferdinand. "Had he beentrulyroyal, he would have saved Maximilian."
Herr Müller made no further comment, but shook his head slowly in an affirmative nod.
From Trieste the boat was taken to Pola, one of the oldest cities in the country, quite at theextreme tip of Istria. Although the Romans built a city here in 178B. C., yet many of the ancient landmarks remain, among which, outside the ancient city walls, stands the splendid Amphitheatre where gladiators fought and wild beasts contended with human beings for supremacy.
As Herr Runkel was obliged to make Zara on a specified day, they were not permitted to linger in the Istrian peninsula, with its almost continuous olive-groves and vineyards, famous throughout the world; but boarding a small steamer they slowly made their way to the sea-coast town of Zara in Dalmatia, stretching like a lizard along the Adriatic.
No longer was there sign of modernism or progress; every object, every peasant spoke of the past, of long-flown glory, and of poverty. One could almost imagine himself back in those days, six hundred or more years before Christ, when the Argonauts inhabited the spot, andwho, in turn, ceded to the Celts and they to the inevitable Romans. Then Charlemagne coveted Dalmatia; later the influential Venetians wrested it from the Germans; and in 1798 it was finally ceded to Austria, to whom it has ever since belonged, except for a short period when it belonged to France.
The peasants were gorgeous in their gay costumes; there were men in light-colored trousers, very tight fitting, laced with fancy cords of gold or silver thread, and most elaborately embroidered about the pockets in front; there were short jackets of bright cloth designed in intricate fashion in tinseled thread, with tassels about the edges; there were women with blue skirts, very short, over which was an apron so heavily embroidered that it seemed more like an Oriental rug than a bit of cloth, while the bodice was one mass of embroidery. Every conceivable spot was embroidered; about the neck, the shoulders, down the front and at the wrists.There was color, color, color; fringes and tassels and gold thread, as if these poor gewgaws could make up to the peasant for all the poverty he suffered and the monotony of his life. But how charming they did look in their apparel; if their lives were not the sunniest, they surely tried to embody the very sunlight into their clothing, and that helps a lot, for they were never so happy as when decked in their gayest, wearing the hand-made filigree silver ornaments about their necks, in their ears and upon their fingers, even about their waists, which no persuasion nor hunger can prevail upon them to part with.
Herr Runkel's younger brother Max was an apprentice in Zara; his term was about to expire and some arrangement must be made for the future. It was this which had brought Herr Runkel to Zara. While he was busy with his brother's affairs, the rest of the party wandered about the ancient city; they visited the market-place,alive and riotous with brilliant coloring; they inspected the wharves, and commented upon St. Mark's Lion, which reposed over the entrance-gate from the harbor, in the city wall, a relic of Venetian invasion, as if that stone lion was yet watching for the return of his people. They even crossed over to the islands, which lie like so many bits of broken mainland, to watch the fishing which is so remunerative, the sardine fishery being one of the greatest sources of revenue of the country.
His business terminated satisfactorily, Herr Runkel suggested they might return by way of the provinces of Bosnia, Croatia and Styria, because these held such wonders in sightseeing for the children.
Earlythe following morning they made their start, packs on backs, over the low, waste lands of Dalmatia. The sun was burning hot; nothing but extensive plains of desert met the eye; far in the distance were low mountains, which glistened in the scorching sun with a startling whiteness, most dazzling to the eyes. There was a sameness about the landscape which wearied the boys.
"I certainly should not like to live here," remarked Leopold; "it is not so nice as Tyrol; there is too much barrenness, and too much dazzling whiteness."
"Nevertheless," replied his uncle, "this is a fine country; the wine and olive oil are famousthe world over, to say nothing of the fruit and flowers. If you did but stop to think about it, most of the fruit and flowers we have in Vienna out of season come from this region."
"But how can anything grow in a desert?"
"We shall soon see," replied his uncle. "Dalmatia looks baked, but it is extremely productive."
After some time, the soil began to grow more and more irregular. Great stones lay upon the surface, and immense fissures opened up at irregular distances.
"Now, my boy, can you call this a desert?" asked Herr Müller. "Here are the gardens of Dalmatia."
"The gardens?" exclaimed both children.
"Yes."
"But I see nothing but great ravines," said Leopold.
"They are not ravines, child, but great cracks opened up in the swampy soil which has burstasunder from the terrific heat of the sun. But that is what saves the country from starvation; on the bottom of these fissures are deposits of fertile soil washed into them by the rains, and here the peasant plants his crops. Here you see one too narrow to plant anything in, but over there," and he pointed to the immediate right, "is one which stretches a mile or more."
"How interesting!" exclaimed Ferdinand. "But what a queer place to plant crops."
At the farm-house, a low, uninviting hut with thatch roof, they stopped to fill their flasks. The farmer led them to the rear of the house where was a huge tank of stagnant water.
"But we cannot drink that," said Herr Runkel, astonished.
"It is all there is," remarked the peasant. "In Dalmatia we drink rain water. It is all we have. There are no streams in Dalmatia except in the mountains, and often those are underground."
"Underground?" cried Ferdinand. "How do you get the water then?"
"Oh, the water runs along in the limestone until it meets with some obstruction, or when it deems it time to appear upon the surface, then it will flow on in a fine stream for some distance, when perhaps it will disappear again for awhile."
"I never heard of such a thing," said Leopold, to whom water was so very plentiful in Tyrol.
"It is a wise precaution of Nature," answered the peasant. "In these hot lands, were it not for this provision, the streams would soon dry up."
"But why don't you convey this water from the mountains to your home?" asked Herr Müller.
"That costs too much; we have no money to spend on luxuries; we have the rain and we gather the water as it falls."
Walking on, having thanked the peasant for his courtesy, they came in sight of a convent.
"Now we shall have some fresh water, I am bound," said Herr Müller. "Convents are always well supplied with refreshments of all kinds."
A friar in brown costume opened the door to them and ushered them into a cool courtyard, paved with brick, in which were small openings at regular intervals. At the well in the centre of the court the flasks were filled with delicious, clear, cool water.
"It surprises me," said Herr Runkel, "that you have such delicious water here, while just below, a mile or two, the peasant told us there was no water available for miles around, except rain water."
"He is quite right, too," returned the affable friar. "If it were not for the rain we should all perish; but the peasant does not take thepains to collect the rain in just the same manner as we do."
He then explained to them the method of obtaining the drinking water. The earth under the brick pavement was dug out to the depth of several feet; the sides and bottom were lined with some hard substance, sometimes clay, sometimes cement, to form a foundation to the cistern. In the middle of the pit was built a well of brick; fine, clean sand was then put in to the level of the court; the brick pavement was then laid, through the openings of which the rain passed into the bed of sand, and, as it seeped through the brick well eventually the sand filtered the water from all impurities and imparted to it a taste, without which it would have been "flat."
A brief rest, and some slight refreshment, upon which the friar insisted, and the travelers plodded on; they passed peasants pushing crude wooden ploughs such as have been inuse since long-forgotten ages, but which seem specially adapted to the rocky, stubborn soil of Dalmatia. And being so close to the border of Bosnia they encountered Bosnian peasants, fine tall men much like Turks in their costumes, for Turkey lies just next door on the south. The Bosnian Mohammedan women veil their faces like the Turkish women, and wear white garments with an apron of many colors, not outdoing, however, the men with their gold embroidered vests, their scarlet jackets and the fez upon their heads. A curious contrariety of nature is, that although the Bosnians and Herzegovians dislike the Turk, nevertheless they cling to the Turkish costume with pertinacity. So deep was their hatred of the Turk that these two provinces combined and placed themselves under the Austrian rule.
As night approached, the travelers made their way towards a very large, low house surrounded with outbuildings, and all enclosed bya strong palisade of timbers built for defense.
"We shall pass the night at the Community House," said Herr Runkel.
"A Community House?" repeated Leopold.
"Yes. You see, in the olden times, the borders of this country, and the neighboring ones, Servia, Bosnia, Croatia and Roumania, were constantly being overrun by the Turks, who have always been the dread of nations, their cruelty being proverbial. The inhabitants of these border-countries were forced to protect themselves, as in unity was their strength. Consequently, they built a Community or General House in which the villagers might live together for mutual protection, and mutual benefit as well."
"But they don't have wars to fear any more, do they?" asked Ferdinand.
"No. Nevertheless custom of long-standing cannot be lightly laid aside. Our empressMaria-Theresa, seeing the advantage these communities afforded as a means of defense, had a long line of them built, seven thousand miles long, from the Carpathian Mountains on the east of Transylvania to the sea-coast in Croatia to protect the border from the Turks, but now these fortifications have been abandoned. However, isolated Communities remain, being a part of the customs of Servia, and you will find them vastly different from anything you have yet seen."
It was quite late in the afternoon; the sun had not yet sunk, because the days were at their longest; however, it was certainly dinner-time, if not past, and the party were hungry.
Knocking at the door of the largest and most important-looking building, which was of timber, and one story only, it was opened by a young man in Servian costume who ushered them into the room. It was an enormous room, to say the least; in the centre extended awooden table set for the evening meal, and about which were already seated the inhabitants of the Community.
The eldest man, who had the honor to be, at the time, the Stareshina or Hausvater, arose from his seat and greeted the strangers.
"And may we have the honor of receiving you as our guests?" he asked, simply.
Herr Runkel thanked him, and explained that they were on a tour of the provinces with the lads, and should be most grateful for a night's shelter. Room was made for them at the table, and right heartily were they received by the Zadruga, or Community family. The two boys were lost in admiration of all they saw; and although they were plied with cheeses and meats and bread, and even fruits of all kinds, yet their hunger seemed to have left them in their wonderment. At one end of the great room was a brick stove or sort of fireplace, the largest either of the lads had everseen. To carry off the smoke from the blazing logs, was built a huge canopy, round and very large at the bottom, tapering to a small circumference at the top, and allowing the smoke to escape through the open roof at that point. Over the fire, but high enough to prevent them being burned, were cross-beams from which hung huge pieces of beef, bacons, hams and all sorts of meat smoking for future use, while the cooking was done in huge pots of iron suspended by chains from the beams.
The women were dressed in white linen bodices with long, flowing sleeves; their skirts were a combination of two wide aprons, one at the front and one at the back, over which was another smaller apron elaborately embroidered in brilliant colors. About their waists were scarlet sashes, with a second somewhat higher up of the same brilliant hue; red leather high boots, filigree silver ornaments or beads about their necks, and on their heads a filmy veil withfancy border fastened to the hair with a silver pin, and hanging far down over their shoulders like a mist. In this most picturesque costume they certainly resembled our scarlet flamingo or bird-of-paradise more than anything else one could think of.
The men, too, were splendid in their gay costumes; loose trousers like the Turks, with top-boots of black leather; scarlet vests embellished with silver thread and silver buttons, and white coats, very long, reaching almost to the boots.
The meal finished, the Stareshina (the presiding elder of the Zadruga) and his wife, the Domatchina (which means homekeeper), arose and thus gave the signal for the others to arise. Those women whose allotted work it was to attend to the clearing of the table, betook themselves to the task. The Domatchina arranges all the work to be done by each during the week, and turn about is taken, so that there maybe no cause for dissatisfaction, while the Stareshina attends to the matters of the farm. Thus harmony always prevails; prosperity reigns wherever these Communities are established, and happiness is paramount.
Although there seemed no apparent necessity for a fire, fresh logs were added. The men brought out their pipes, drew up the benches toward the hearth and began conversation. Some brought their musical instruments; the women sat with their spinning or sewing, while the little girls even, were occupied with elaborate embroideries for their trousseaux later in life, which are always begun in childhood.
There was great unity and happiness in the circle. Amid laughter, song and anecdotes the evening passed; as the hour advanced the Stareshina conducted evening prayers. Goodnight was said by all, and each family betook himself to his own vayat (hut) outside the main building or Koutcha, which alone was reservedfor the use of the Stareshina and the unmarried members of his family. As soon as one of his family should marry, he would have a separate vayat built for him about the Koutcha.
The travelers were conducted to the guest-house, reserved solely for that purpose, and long into the night the children lay and talked over the strange customs they had seen, and plied their elders with endless questions as to the meaning of it all.
"Let them be children, Fred," said Herr Runkel. "We brought them on this trip to learn," and he explained to them those things they wished so much to know. That the Slavs never allow their hearth-fire to die out, no matter how hot the season, for as surely as they do, all sorts of evils would befall them; that is one of the unswerving superstitions of the nation. The fire of their hearth is as a sacred flame to them, which must be tended and cared for with unremitting zeal, which harks back to the daysof paganism when the fire was looked upon as the most sacred thing in their religion, and was kept ever burning in their temples and public places; finally it became the custom for each family to have his own hearth or fire, but the superstition that should it die out it would bring all sorts of maledictions upon the household, has remained. No doubt the difficulty of obtaining the fire by means of friction (matches of course, being unknown) accounted for the careful preservation of the flame. However it be, the Slavs still retain the ancient custom.
He explained to them how the House father and the House mother of this great family are elected by vote, serving a given number of years; sometimes one, sometimes more, as custom establishes; but usually the eldest man in the Community holds that post of honor, while his wife is the House mother. He told the lads how the farm is worked by each member of the Zadruga under the supervision and instructionof the Stareshina, each receiving his share, according to his labor, at the end of the season, the finances being in charge of the House father. He told them how many of the young men, longing for higher education at the universities or in the arts, such as painting, etc., were sent by the Zadruga to the city which afforded the best advantages for them, the expenses being borne by the Community funds, should there not be sufficient to the young men's credit to pay for it, entirely; this extra sum being repaid when the students should be in position to do so.
The children were fascinated with the Community, where every one seemed so happy and well cared for; and they begged to be allowed to remain many days, but Herr Müller reminded them that Frau Müller would be awaiting them at Gratz.
"But we shall come again,nicht wahr, mein Vater?" asked Ferdinand.
"Yes, we shall come again, and soon maybe," he replied.
"And I, too?" queried Leopold.
"Naturlich."
Off in the morning, the party journeyed through the southeastern portion of Carniola, so rich in mountains and minerals. There were unusual sights to be seen here, too; huge caverns were fashioned in the rocks, and grottoes of curious formations. They saw the peasant women making lace, a product for which the province is particularly famed.
At Marburg, Herr Runkel and Leopold Hofer bade farewell to their companions, and boarded the train for Innsbruck where Herr Hofer would meet his young son; while Herr Müller and Ferdinand continued on up into Styria to the city of Gratz, where Frau Müller awaited them.
Styria, or Steiermark, is a splendid provinceof the Austria-Hungarian empire, famous even in the time of the Romans, for its production of ore, and holding to-day an important place in the commercial world for its minerals. Gratz, the capital, is a charming city with an excellent university, and lies on the River Mur. It has been said of it that it is "La Ville des Grâces sur la rivière de l'Amour" (the favored city on the river of Love) being a play upon words, amour (love) being interpreted Mur.
Of course there was an excursion to the Castle-hill, where formerly stood the ancient castle; and Herr Müller pointed out to the children the spot where Charles II ordered twenty thousand books of the Protestant faith to be burned in public.
A few days' visit and they were once more on their way for Vienna, and home. Ferdinand's tongue had never ceased to chatter, there were so many interesting details to report to the mother; and when Vienna was reached it didseem as if the child never could settle down to life in the City, after his splendid rambles about the open country, wandering where he willed.
"Father," he remarked, after some days at home, "we did not go to Moravia. We visited all the provinces except that."
"Yes, it is true," replied his father, "but, you know, we lingered longer than we intended, and Teresa is due to arrive shortly. We shall have to reserve Moravia for another vacation-time. I think you will not find the customs there very different, however, from those of Bohemia.[1]But I should like to have you see Olmutz, the ancient capital of Moravia, where our emperor Franz-Joseph was proclaimed king."
FOOTNOTE:[1]Our Little Bohemian Cousin.
[1]Our Little Bohemian Cousin.
[1]Our Little Bohemian Cousin.
Withthe arrival of Teresa Runkel busy days followed; visits to the Prater, which Emperor Joseph II had dedicated to the public for a playground and recreation park; to the Capuchin Church, where lie the remains of the imperial families from the time of Matthias I in 1619, and where the ill-starred Duke of Reichstadt (L'Aiglon), the only son of Napoleon of France, lies buried among his kinsfolks, as well as his imperial mother, Marie Louise. And, best of all, there was the excursion to the Castle of Laxenburg just outside Vienna, one of the imperial chateaux, standing in the midst of a miniature island, which is reached by a tiny ferry boat, quite as though itwere some ancient feudal castle with its moat, minus the drawbridge and portcullis.
Here they were frightened nearly out of their senses while inspecting the dungeons, at hearing an automaton chained to the wall shake its cumbersome fetters as if he were some prisoner living out his days in the hopelessness of the dungeon. But Herr Müller quieted the alarms of the young girl by explaining the pleasantry of the custodian, who gives his visitors thrills, which is what they really come for, as he says.
"I wish you could be here for the ice-carnival, Teresa," said Ferdinand, after one busy day's sight-seeing. "It's wonderful, with the lake all lit up by electric lights and lanterns, and tiny booths dotted here and there, and skaters in their furs and gay gowns. Can't you manage to come at Christmas time?"
"I should love to," she replied. "I'll write and ask brother Franz if I may."
"And maybe mother will let us go to one of the masked balls," the lad said, half hesitatingly, for he knew this would, indeed, be a privilege.
"Scarcely yet, Ferdinand; children do not attend balls; but there are countless other festivities for children, which would delight Teresa much more than a masked ball at which she could but look on. It is far better to be a participant, isn't it, my dear?"
"Oh, much," answered the child, politely. Nevertheless, she did wish she might see the ball.
A few days later Ferdinand and his mother drove the Austrian girl to the railroad station, where she was met by the Sister who would conduct her and others to the Convent.
At the conductor's call "Einsteigen!" the doors of the train were fastened, and Ferdinand waved farewell to his little friend, throughwhose childish head flashed visions of a merry Yule-tide to come, passed in the home of her friends, with dances and parties, and skating and endless merriment.
THE END
THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS
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IN THE DESERT OF WAITING:The Legend of Camelback Mountain.
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KEEPING TRYST
THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART
THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME:A Fairy Play for Old and Young.
THE JESTER'S SWORD