August had often hung about the little station, watching the
trains come and go and dive into the heart of the hills and
vanish. No one said anything to him for idling about; people are
kind-hearted and easy of temper in this pleasant land, and
children and dogs are both happy there. He heard the Bavarians
arguing and vociferating a great deal, and learned that they meant
to go too and wanted to go with the great stove itself. But this
they could not do, for neither could the stove go by a passenger
train nor they themselves go in a goods train. So at length they
insured their precious burden for a large sum, and consented to
send it by a luggage train which was to pass through Hall in half
an hour. The swift trains seldom deign to notice the existence of
Hall at all.
August heard, and a desperate resolve made itself up in his little
mind. Where Hirschvogel went would he go. He gave one terrible
thought to Dorothea--poor, gentle Dorothea!--sitting in the cold
at home, then set to work to execute his project. How he managed
it he never knew very clearly himself; but certain it is that when
the goods train from the north, that had come all the way from
Linz on the Danube, moved out of Hall, August was hidden behind
the stove in the great covered truck, and wedged, unseen and
undreamt of by any human creature, amidst the cases of wood-
carving, of clocks and clock-work, of Vienna toys, of Turkish
carpets, of Russian skins, of Hungarian wines, which shared the
same abode as did his swathed and bound Hirschvogel. No doubt he
was very naughty, but it never occurred to him that he was so: his
whole mind and soul were absorbed in the one entrancing idea, to
follow his beloved friend and fire-king.
It was very dark in the closed truck, which had only a little
window above the door; and it was crowded, and had a strong smell
in it from the Russian hides and the hams that were in it. But
August was not frightened; he was close to Hirschvogel, and
presently he meant to be closer still; for he meant to do nothing
less than get inside Hirschvogel itself. Being a shrewd little
boy, and having had, by great luck, two silver groschen in his
breeches pocket, which he had earned the day before by chopping
wood, he had bought some bread and sausage at the station of a
woman there who knew him, and who thought he was going out to his
Uncle Joachim's chalet above Jenbach. This he had with him, and
this he ate in the darkness and the lumbering, pounding,
thundering noise which made him giddy, as never had he been in a
train of any kind before. Still he ate, having had no breakfast,
and being a child, and half a German, and not knowing at all how
or when he ever would eat again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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