From that time the monastery founded by St. Pirmin had thriven and flourished; a hot-bed of monastic erudition, of considerable repute, in German lands. "Reichenau, emerald isle, thou favourite child of kind nature, Rich with the law of science, and all that is pious and godly, Rich in thy fruit-bearing trees, and the swelling grapes of thy vineyards; Proudly, and fair from the waves, the lily lifts its white petals,-- So that thy praise has e'en reached, the misty land of the Britons." Thus sang the learned monk Ermenrich already in the days of Ludwig the German, when in his abbey of Ellwangen, he was longing for the glittering waters of the Bodensee. Ekkehard resolved to pay a visit to this rival of his monastery. On the white sandy shore of Ermatingen, a fisherman was standing in his boat, baling out water. Then Ekkehard pointing with his staff towards the island, said: "Ferry me over there, my good friend." The monk's habit in those days, generally gave weight to all demands, but the fisherman crossly shook his head and said: "I will not take any more of you over, since you fined me a shilling, at the last session-day." "Why did they fine you?" "On account of the Kreuzmann!" "And who is the Kreuzmann?" "The Allmann." "He likewise is unknown to me," said Ekkehard. "What is he like?" "He is made of metal," grumbled the fisherman, "two spans high, and holds three water-lilies in his hand. He was standing in the old willow-tree at Allmannsdorf, and it was good that he stood there; but at the last session they took him out of the tree, and carried him into their cloister. So now he stands on that Italian bishop's grave at Niederzell. What good does he do there?--Does he help dead Saints to catch fish?" Then Ekkehard perceived, that the fisherman's Christian faith was as yet not very strong; and also why the bronze idol had cost him a shilling's fine. He had sacrificed a kid to him at night-time, in order that his nets might be well filled with felchen, trout and perch; and the authorities had punished these heathenish memories, according to the imperial laws. "Be sensible, my good fellow," said Ekkehard, "and try to forget the Allmann. I will restore you a good part of your shilling, if you will row me over." "What I say," replied the old man, "shall not be turned round like a ring on a finger. I will take none of you. My boy may do it if he likes." He then whistled through his fingers, which brought his boy, a tall boatman, who undertook to row him over. When Ekkehard landed, he directed his steps towards the monastery, which hidden between fruit-trees and vine-clad hills, stands in the middle of the island.