the woods and walked on through them.

When they had climbed up into the higher woodlands of the "neck," the
long furrows of the road were no longer soft, as had been the case in
the valley, but were firm, not from dryness, but, as the children soon
perceived, because they were frozen over. In some places, the frost had
rendered them so hard that they could bear the weight of their bodies.
From now on, they did not persist any longer in the slippery path beside
the road, but in the ruts, as children will, trying whether this or that
furrow would carry them. When, after an hour's time, they had arrived at
the height of the "neck," the ground was so hard that their steps
resounded on it and the clods were hard like stones.

Arrived at the location of the memorial post, Sanna was the first to
notice that it stood no longer there. They went up to the spot and saw
that the round, red-painted post which carried the picture was lying in
the dry grass which stood there like thin straw and concealed the fallen
post from view. They could not understand, to be sure, why it had
toppled over--whether it had been knocked down or fallen of itself; but
they did see that the wood was much decayed at the place where it
emerged from the ground and that the post might therefore easily have
fallen of itself. Since it was lying there, however, they were pleased
that they could get a closer look at the picture and the inscription
than they had ever had before. When they had examined all--the basket
with the rolls, the whitish hands of the baker, his closed eyes, his
gray coat and the pine-trees surrounding him--and when they had spelt
out and read aloud the inscription, they proceeded on their way.

After another hour, the dark forest on either side receded, scattered
trees, some of them isolated oaks, others birches, and clumps of bushes,
received them and accompanied them onward, and after a short while the
children were running down through the meadows of the valley of
Millsdorf.

Although this valley is not as high, by far, as the valley of Gschaid
and so much warmer that they could begin harvesting two weeks earlier
than in Gschaid, the ground was frozen here too; and when the children
had come to the tannery and the fulling-mill of their grandfather,
pretty little cakes of ice were lying on the road where it was
frequently spattered by drops from the wheels. That is usually a great
pleasure for children.

Grandmother had seen them