r that
frightful pass, perished in great numbers, and were eaten by the bears
and the wolves. The little shepherd boy Findelkind--who was a little
boy five hundred years ago, remember," the priest repeated--"was sorely
disturbed and distressed to see these poor dead souls in the snow winter
after winter, and seeing the blanched bones lie on the bare earth,
unburied, when summer melted the snow. It made him unhappy, very
unhappy; and what could he do, he a little boy keeping sheep? He had as
his wages two florins a year; that was all; but his heart rose high, and
he had faith in God. Little as he was, he said to himself he would try
and do something, so that year after year those poor lost travellers and
beasts should not perish so. He said nothing to anybody, but he took the
few florins he had saved up, bade his master farewell, and went on his
way begging,--a little fourteenth century boy, with long, straight hair,
and a girdled tunic, as you see them," continued the priest, "in the
miniatures in the black-letter missal that lies upon my desk. No doubt
heaven favoured him very strongly, and the saints watched over him;
still, without the boldness of his own courage, and the faith in his own
heart, they would not have done so. I suppose, too, that when knights in
their armour, and soldiers in their camps, saw such a little fellow all
alone, they helped him, and perhaps struck some blows for him, and
so sped him on his way, and protected him from robbers and from wild
beasts. Still, be sure that the real shield and the real reward that
served Findelkind of Arlberg was the pure and noble purpose that armed
him night and day. Now, history does not tell us where Findelkind went,
nor how he fared, nor how long he was about it; but history does tell
us that the little barefooted, long-haired boy, knocking so loudly at
castle gates and city walls in the name of Christ and Christ's poor
brethren, did so well succeed in his quest that before long he had
returned to his mountain home with means to have a church and a rude
dwelling built, where he lived with six other brave and charitable
souls, dedicating themselves to St. Christopher, and going out night
and day to the sound of the Angelus, seeking the lost and weary. This
is really what Findelkind of Arlberg did five centuries ago, and did
so quickly that his fraternity of St. Christopher, twenty years after,
numbered among its members archdukes, and prelates, and knights without