we wish each other good night," said the little girl, as
the shadows mounted high on the tops of the mountains, leaving them
only peaks of rosy light. "Now come to the chalet, and sister Rose
will give you some milk."

"Help me. I'm afraid," said Lucy.

"That is nothing," said the mountain maiden springing up to her like
a kid, in spite of her great heavy shoes; "you should see the places
Father and Seppel climb when they hunt the chamois."

"What is your name?" asked Lucy, who much liked the looks of her
little companion in her broad straw hat, with a bunch of Alpine
roses in it, her thick striped frock, and white body and sleeves,
braced with black ribbon; it was such a pleasant, fresh, open face,
with such rosy cheeks and kindly blue eyes, that Lucy felt quite
at home.

"I am little Katherl. This is the first time I have come up with
Rose to the chalet, but I am big enough to milk the cows now. Ah!
do you see Daisy, the black one with a white tuft? She is our
leading cow, and she knows it, the darling. She never lets the
others get into dangerous places; she leads them home at the sound
of a horn; and when we go back to the village she will lead the
herd with a flower on the point of each horn, and a wreath round
her neck. The men will come up for us, Seppel and all; and may be
Seppel will bring the prize medal for shooting with the rifle."

"But what do you do up here?"

"We girls go up for the summer with the cows to the pastures, the
grass is so rich and good on the mountains, and we make butter and
cheese. Wait, and you shall taste. Sit down on the stone."

Lucy was glad to hear that promise, for the fresh mountain air had
made her hungry. Katherl skipped away towards a house with a
projecting wooden balcony, and deep eaves, beautifully carved, and
came back with a slice of bread and delicious butter, and a good
piece of cheese, all on a wooden platter, and a little bowl of new
milk. Lucy thought she had never tasted anything so nice.

"And now the gracious little lady will rest a little while," said
Katherl, "whilst I go and help Rose to strain the milk."

So Lucy waited, but she felt so tired with her scramble that she
could not help nodding off to sleep, though she would have liked
very much to have stayed longer with the dear little Tyrolese.
But we know by this time where she always found herself when
she awoke.

CHAPTER VI.

AFRICA.

Oh! oh! here is a little dried crocodi