rms in the mountains; some that it is to be fine
weather."

"And what do you say, Melchior?" asked Dale.

"I say nothing, herr. What can a man who knows the mountains say, but
that this is a place of change? Down here in the valley it has been a
soft bright summer day, whilst up yonder in the mountains storm and snow
have raged, and the icy winds have frozen men to death. Another day I
have left the wind howling and the rain beating and the great black
clouds hanging low; and in an hour or two I have climbed up to sunshine,
warmth and peace."

"But you mountaineers know a great deal about the weather and its
changes."

"A little, herr," said the guide, smiling--"not a great deal. It is
beyond us. We know by the clouds and mists high above the mountains
when it is safe to go and when to stay; for if we see long-drawn and
rugged clouds hanging about the points and trailing down the cols and
over each icy grat, we know there is a tempest raging and we do not go.
There is not much wisdom in that. It is very simple, and--Look! the
young herr is fast asleep. Poor boy!--it has been a tiring day. Shall
we go to rest?"

"Yes," said Dale, laying his hand on Saxe's shoulder. "Come, boy, rouse
up and let's go to bed."

"Eh? What? Where? Sliding down and--Did you speak, Mr Dale?" said
Saxe, after starting up and babbling excitedly for a moment or two, just
fresh from his dreams.

"Wake up! I'm going to bed."

"Wake up, of course," said Saxe tetchily. "Mustn't a--?"

He stopped short, colouring a little; and at that moment he turned
sharply, for there was a loud sneeze from below, and directly after a
youngish man, with a lowering look and some bits of hay sticking in his
hair, came out from the cowhouse and slouched by the front, glancing up
with half-shut eyes towards the occupants of the verandah, on his way to
a low stone-built shingle-roofed place, from which sundry bleatings told
that it was the refuge of the herd of goats.

Saxe was too sleepy to think then, and their host being summoned, he
showed them through the chalet into a long low room with a sloping roof
and boarded floor, in two corners of which lay a quantity of clean hay
and twigs of some dry heathery-looking plant.

"Gute nacht," he said briefly, and went out, leaving the door open.

"Do we sleep here?" said Saxe, yawning. "No beds no chests of drawers,
no washstands, no carpets."

"No, boy: nothing but clean hay and a roof over our